“You are in a hurry, sir?” he inquired
“Yes,” answered Rayner shortly.
“Well, sir, if I may venture to suggest it to you, the Maple Leaf sails at six o’clock from Southampton. She is not a full boat, and if there is a train you might yet catch her.”
“Look at the time table, quick!” was the reply. The clerk obeyed. “There is a train in three quarters of an hour, sir. It is a slow train, but it is due in Southampton five and twenty minutes before sailing time. You should be able to do it easily, sir.”
“Then I’ll book a cabin, please. As quick as you can. I’ve some luggage to pack.”
A few minutes later he left the office, and raced to his chambers, where he kept the taxi waiting whilst he packed a small portmanteau. Then he rang up Sir Joseph Rayner at the office. It was the head clerk’s voice that replied.
“No, Mr. Adrian, Sir Joseph is out. He will not return today. Any message, sir?”
“Yes. Let him know somehow that I’m going to America this evening. Tell him I will write, and—er—Benson—remember that this piece of news is strictly private.”
“Yes, Mr. Adrian.”
He hung up the receiver, lit a cigar, and five minutes after was on his way to Waterloo.