“But I tell you I come straight from Mr. Ormond; I saw him last Tuesday at Paris—”
“And you see him now, sir,” said Ormond, advancing.
Patrickson’s countenance changed beyond all power of control.
“Mr. Ormond!—I thought you were at Paris.”
“Mr. Patrickson!—I thought you were at Havre de Grace—what brought you here so suddenly?”
“I acted for another,” hesitated Patrickson: “I therefore made no delay.”
“And, thank Heaven!” said Ormond, “I have acted for myself!—but just in time!—Sir,” continued he, addressing himself to the principal clerk, “Gentlemen, I have to return you my thanks for your caution—it has actually saved me from ruin—for I understand—”
Ormond suddenly stopped, recollecting that he might injure Sir Ulick O’Shane essentially by a premature disclosure, or by repeating a report which might be ill-founded.
He turned again to speak to Patrickson, but Patrickson had disappeared.
Then continuing to address himself to the clerks. “Gentlemen,” said Ormond, speaking carefully, “have you heard any thing of or from Sir Ulick O’Shane lately, except what you may have heard from this Mr. Patrickson?”