"I think it would be better if you spoke to the manager," said the clerk. "Would you mind coming in to see him?"
"Not at all; but why?"
"Well, you are not the only one who has been making inquiries about Mr. Thornton—I may tell you that; but, please come into the manager's room."
Gilbert saw the manager, and explained his errand.
"I am afraid," said the manager, speaking in an impressive voice, "that something may have happened to Mr. Thornton; indeed, I have very little doubt of it."
"Why?"
"Mr. Thornton did sail from New York as he intended; not only so, he landed at Southampton in due course, and came on to London on the 29th of last month. On that day he took a room at the Law Courts Hotel in Holborn. These are the facts."
"How do you know he went to the Law Courts Hotel, may I ask?"
"I have it from the hotel people themselves, and why they told me of it you will presently understand. It appears that Mr. Thornton was a good deal of an invalid; at any rate, shortly after he got to his hotel he was taken very seriously ill—he had a violent heart-attack of the most alarming character. He fell down in the hall of the hotel and became unconscious. He was immediately conveyed to his bed and a doctor was summoned."
"Ah," said Gilbert, interrupting him, "I knew that he had a weak heart. But, pardon me, pray continue."