"You have received my note, Mr. Northcote. I can't tell you how distressed I am that such a thing should have occurred in this office. On behalf of the firm I tender you our deepest, our most sincere apologies. I only trust that there have been no regrettable consequences. What the scoundrel's object was, Heaven knows. I—"
"Look here, Mr. Seagrave," I interrupted, "what the dickens are you talking about? I've had no note from you yet."
He goggled at me, rubbing his hands together and cringing like a frightened spaniel I suppose he must have had some unpleasant experiences with my spirited double.
"You must just have missed it, Mr. Northcote," he said. "I sent it around by one of our young men a quarter of an hour ago. The fact is that we have heard from Sir Henry Tregattock this morning completely repudiating any knowledge of Francis. I had written to him overnight, asking him to confirm the character, and in reply he stated that he had no idea what I was alluding to. He had never had a servant of that name, and had not communicated with me in any shape or form. It's unparalleled, amazing, incredible, but there can be no doubt that someone else answered the telephone in Sir Henry's name. Still if there have been no unfortunate developments—"
I laughed in rather a nasty fashion. "Unfortunate developments!" I repeated. "Are you aware, Mr. Seagrave, that the man you sent me yesterday not only attempted to rob the house in the night, but did his best to murder me?"
To say that Mr. Seagrave collapsed would be an altogether inadequate expression.
"Oh dear, oh dear!" he moaned. "This is terrible, sir, terrible! Such a thing has never occurred in the whole history of the firm. It will ruin us when it comes out—absolutely ruin us!"
His frank egotism rather pleased me.
"I don't suppose it would do you much good," I replied: "but is there any reason why it would come out?"
I saw a ray of hope leap into his distressed face.