"Can you tell me if the good doctor is well?"
"He is—dead!" replied Walton, slowly. "Did you know him?"
"I much regret to hear of his death. I did not know him, but I met him once."
"This must be the man who gave him the bonds," thought Walton, trying to conceal his perturbation. "The moment and the man I have so long dreaded have arrived. Now, Nicholas Walton, you require all your coolness and nerve."
"May I ask when that was?" he asked, with apparent unconcern.
"Five years ago. I was the agent for conveying to him a large sum in securities bequeathed him by my uncle, to whom he had rendered a great service."
"Indeed! I am most glad to see you, sir. I wish my brother-in-law were alive to give you personal welcome."
"When—did he die?"
"But a short time after you met him. He died instantly—of heart disease."