“He told me to say, sir, that he couldn’t wait for that, so I was to bring it with me.”
“He could not wait for that! What do you mean?”
“Well, sir, I s’pose he thought you might be busy and would put off sending the packet to him until it suited your convenience.”
“Ah! I see—um! Well, deliver the message I have given you.”
“But he said I warn’t to go without it.”
“Return to Mr. Grahame, my man, and say I will send it up to—him—by—my—clerk!” exclaimed the solicitor, speaking, under increasing irritation, with marked emphasis.
“Can’t go back without it, sir, on no consideration,” persisted Chewkle, assuming a dogged manner, “them’s my instructions.”
The solicitor looked fiercely at him, and raising his voice, said—
“You can’t have it. I say—you—can’t—have it. It is not come-at-able at this moment! do you understand?”
Chewkle quite understood that. It was certainly not come-at-able, unless some one picked the lock of his iron safe, but he appeared not to comprehend anything, except that he was ordered not to return without a paper.