“None whatever,” I replied. A moment later a further thought occurred to me, and I added, “But would not the registry of marriages give the address of my bride?”
“Why, of course it would!” cried the Consul excitedly. “An excellent idea. Return to London as quickly as you can, and search the marriage register. From that I’m certain you’ll obtain a clue.”
Chapter Seven.
My New Patient.
On Friday morning I entered the office of Messrs Hanway Brothers in Leadenhall Street, and after a short wait was accorded an interview with the manager.
I demanded, of course, an explanation why I had been shipped away from London in such a summary manner, whereupon he apparently regarded me as a lunatic.
“I really had no knowledge of the affair,” he replied, smiling incredulously. “Do you actually allege you were taken on board the Petrel and kept imprisoned in a cabin by Captain Banfield? A most extraordinary story, to say the least.”
I told him of the inquiries made by the British Consul in Christiania, and added—