I sought a hackney-coach, and went home to relieve the fears of the ladies, occasioned by our long absence. My news that Margaret was found (I omitted mention of Captain Falconer in my account) put the good souls into a great flutter of joy and excitement, and they would have it that they should go in to see her the first thing on the morrow, a resolution I saw no reason to oppose. So I took them with me to town in the morning, left them at Madge's lodgings, and was gone to join Philip ere the laughing and crying of their meeting with her was half-done.
As there was little chance to find Captain Falconer stirring early, Phil and I gave the forenoon to his arrangements with his man of law at Lincoln's Inn. When these were satisfactorily concluded, and a visit incidental to them had been made to a bank in the city, we refreshed ourselves at the Globe tavern in Fleet Street, and then turned our faces Westward.
At the tavern that Madge had named, we learned where Falconer abode, but, proceeding to his lodgings, found he had gone out. We looked in at various places whither we were directed; but 'twas not till late in the afternoon, that Philip caught sight of him writing a letter at a table in the St. James Coffeehouse.
Philip recognised him from the view he had obtained the previous night; but, to make sure, he nudged me to look. On my giving a nod of confirmation, Philip went to him at once, and said:
"Pray pardon my interrupting: you are Captain Falconer, I believe."
The captain looked up, and saw only Philip, for I stood a little to the rear of the former's elbow.
"I believe so, too, sir," he replied urbanely.
"Our previous meeting was so brief," said Philip, "that I doubt you did not observe my face so as to recall it now."
"That must be the case," said the captain, "for I certainly do not remember having ever met you."
"And yet our meeting was no longer ago than last night—in Dean Street."