"Step in, sir," coolly returned Matthew. The man went through the door into the sitting-room, but came back immediately.
"Not there?" said Matthew. The man shook his head. "I don't think you'll find them about here," added the bar-keeper.
Mr. Harrison—this was the name by which Matthew addressed him—stood musing and irresolute for some minutes. He could not be mistaken about the entrance of his sons, and yet they were not there. His manner was much perplexed. At length he took a seat, in a far corner of the bar-room, somewhat beyond the line of observation, evidently with the purpose of waiting to see if those he sought would come in. He had not been there long, before two young men entered, whose appearance at once excited his interest. They went up to the bar and called for liquor. As Matthew set the decanter before them, he leaned over the counter, and said something in a whisper.
"Where?" was instantly ejaculated, in surprise, and both of the young men glanced uneasily about the room. They met the eyes of Mr. Harrison, fixed intently upon them. I do not think, from the way they swallowed their brandy and water, that it was enjoyed very much.
"What the deuce is he doing here?" I heard one of them say, in a low voice.
"After the boys, of course."
"Have they come yet?"
Matthew winked as he answered, "All safe."
"In No. 4?"
"Yes. And the wine and cigars all waiting for you."