“Pardon me for a moment,” interposed the doctor. “Where is Mill?” he added, turning to Screw.
“Doing our errands at Barkingham,” answered Screw, turning paler than ever.
“We happened to meet your two men, and to ask them the way to your house,” said the stranger who had just spoken. “This man, with a caution that does him infinite credit, required to know our business before he told us. We managed to introduce the password—‘Happy-go-lucky’—into our answer. This of course quieted suspicion; and he, at our request, guided us here, leaving his fellow-workman, as he has just told you, to do all errands at Barkingham.”
While these words were being spoken, I saw Screw’s eyes wandering discontentedly and amazedly round the room. He had left me in it with the doctor before he went out: was he disappointed at not finding me in it on his return?
While this thought was passing through my mind, the stranger resumed his explanations.
“We are here,” he said, “as agents appointed to transact private business, out of London, for Mr. Manasseh, with whom you have dealings, I think?”
“Certainly,” said the doctor, with a smile.
“And who owes you a little account, which we are appointed to settle.”
“Just so!” remarked the doctor, pleasantly rubbing his hands one over the other. “My good friend, Mr. Manasseh, does not like to trust the post, I suppose? Very glad to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. Have you got the little memorandum about you?”
“Yes; but we think there is a slight inaccuracy in it. Have you any objection to let us refer to your ledger?”