“I produced the bond to Mr Adair,” Robert Perreau continued. “It was his signature, he said, but he might possibly have altered his hand from the time you had seen him write.... You might let me have the £5000, Mr Adair said, and he would pay the bond in May, though it is not payable till June.”
The astute banker, who had talked the matter over with his brother in the interim, did not express his doubts so strongly.
“Leave the bond with me,” he suggested to his visitor, “in order that we may get an assignment of it.”
Which proposal Mr Robert Perreau assented to readily, believing, no doubt, that it was a preface to the payment of his money. In the course of the day the document was shown to a friend of Mr Adair, and finally exhibited to the agent himself. Attentive to the hour of his appointment, Mr Perreau left his gallipots in Golden Square, and reached the Charing Cross bank at eleven o’clock on the following morning. Both partners were ready for him, and suggested that to clear up all doubts it would be wise to call upon Mr William Adair without delay. To this the apothecary assented very readily—indeed, in any case a refusal would have aroused the worst suspicions. As it was a wet morning, he had come in his elegant town coach, and he drove off immediately with one of the bankers to the house of the late agent in Pall Mall. Upon their entrance the squire of Flixton took Mr Henry Drummond by the hand, but, to the surprise of the worthy banker, made a bow merely to the man who had boasted him as his ‘particular friend’ Then, the bond being produced, Mr Adair at once repudiated the signature. For the first time Robert Perreau betrayed astonishment.
“Surely, sir,” cried he, “you are jocular!”
A haughty glance was the sole response of the wealthy agent.
“It is no time to be jocular when a man’s life is at stake,” retorted the indignant Henry Drummond. “What can all this mean? The person you pretend to be intimate with does not know you.”
“Why, ’tis evident this is not Mr Adair’s hand,” added his brother, who had just arrived, with similar warmth, pointing to the forged name.
“I know nothing at all of it,” protested the confused apothecary.
“You are either the greatest fool or the greatest knave I ever saw,” the angry banker continued. “I do not know what to make of you.... You must account for this.... How came you by the bond?”