“Gibbs,” said he to the general who was already there. “Stephen has left my house.”
“Left your house, Jake—I don't understand.”
“He has left my house,” repeated Benson sharply.
“Good Heavens, Jake, what's happened?” cried the general in dismay.
“Never mind what's happened, Gibbs. You are not to mention his name again in my hearing; that is all I have to say to you.”
“Oh, see here, Jake,” began Gibbs, but Benson gave him such a look that he dared say no more.
“This is a matter we will not discuss,” said he frigidly. “Now bring in your accounts, and we will see about your collections for the month.”
All that morning poor Gibbs worked as a man in a dream; but at noon Benson went home, and he promptly put on his hat and shuffled out into the street. He was consumed by a burning desire to know why Stephen had left the lawyer's house, for what would Stephen do without Benson, and what would Benson do without Stephen? One had seemed as dependent as the other in this relation of theirs. He wondered what was the nature of Stephen's offence. He felt that he must have exceeded the limits set by Benson in some particular. Probably he had been extravagant, he could think of nothing beyond this; scandal he would have heard. He knew that for some days Benson had seemed worried and anxious, and this explained it. Stephen had been the cause of it, but what was it that Stephen could have done!
These were the points he pondered as he hurried away in the direction of Wade's office. He would see Wade and get word to Stephen. He found Ben alone.
“Have you seen Stephen Landray to-day?” he demanded without ceremony or introduction.