When in London, Captain Lennox generally stayed at his favourite hotel, the Piazza, in Covent Garden; this Philip knew, and he drove there direct from the station. The urbane individual who was fetched to answer his inquiries, and who had more the look of a church dignitary than of a head waiter, told Philip that, although Captain Lennox was, as he surmised, frequently at the hotel, he had not been there lately. For the past six weeks, or so, they had not seen him, neither were they in a position to afford any information as to his whereabouts. All that Philip could do was to dissemble his disappointment and go.
This seemed to Philip a worse check than the one at The Lilacs the previous morning. Halting in the street, he bethought himself what he could do--where look for Lennox. Only one place presented itself to his mind: and that was the office of the Hermandad Company. It was situate in the City, New Broad Street. If he did not see the Captain there, he should at least hear where he was to be found. But Philip thought he most likely should see him.
Half an hour's drive in a hansom cab took him to Broad Street; and to the proper number, at which the cabman readily drew up. But Philip could not so easily find the office he was in search of. On a large board outside the doorway were painted up the names of some thirty or forty different firms or companies, each of them occupying offices in the same building. Philip at length discovered the name he wanted, the last but two on the list, and was directed to mount to the third floor.
On the third floor--and a very dingy, unwholesome-smelling floor it was, for the building was an old one--he found the Hermandad office. Philip's imagination had led him to fancy the offices of so important a company as rather grand and imposing: this did not look like it. The door was shut, and he could not open it. He knocked again and again, but without response. While wondering at all this, and standing to think what he could do next, an opposite door was opened, and a sharp-looking youth came out.
"Nobody at home here apparently," remarked Philip, pointing to the door. "What's the best time to find them in?"
"Don't know," answered the youth, twisting his mouth into a grin. "Nobody been here for a fortnight, but a boy to fetch letters."
"Nobody been here for a fortnight!" exclaimed Philip.
"Nobody else. Not likely. Silver-mining company, hey! Oh, Jemima!"
Philip could have wrung the boy's neck.
"Are you one of the green 'uns?" continued he. "Lots of 'em come. No use, though; not a bit; only have to go away again. Fishy--awful! Next akin to smashing up."