"I suppose you were not due to dine with him on the following evening?" I said.
"Dine with him? No, I have never had that honor. I do not think you quite appreciate Mr. Portman's position. I lend money in a small way, there are many like me, and if, as occasionally happens, business comes to us which is too large for us to deal with, we go to Mr. Portman. The business is carried through in our names, but Mr. Portman is the real creditor."
In his own way Mr. Portman was a man of importance, and a man of mystery. There was nothing to suggest he was dead, and it was quite possible that some crooked business had kept him from home unexpectedly.
I chanced to go and see Christopher Quarles one evening when I got to this point in my investigations, and he at once began to ask questions about the Finsbury affair. I had not intended to enlist his help. I was quite satisfied with the progress I had made, but he was so keen about the mystery that I told the whole story to him and Zena.
"You seem very interested," I said, when I had finished.
"I am. Mr. Portman has been talked about before now, and I remember I once had a theory about him."
"Does the present affair help to confirm that theory?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"It might be interesting to know why Lord Stanford has gone abroad," he said.
"That is exactly the line I am following," I returned.