He therefore interrogated his clerk as to whether Sir Andrew had given any intimation of the object of his call. The clerk said that Sir Andrew looked in low spirits, and expressed great anxiety to see Mr. Markham, and made very particular inquiries as to the probable time of his return.
“And what answer did you give him?” asked Markham.
“I told him, sir, that I could not be sure of your return to chambers before four or five o’clock, and that you might not then stay longer than merely to dress for dinner.”
“But did not you tell him where he might find me?”
“I did, sir; I said that if Sir Andrew was very desirous of seeing you, he would probably find you at Mr. Martindale’s house in Piccadilly. When I mentioned Mr. Martindale’s name he shook his head and said, ‘No, that will not do;’ and then, after a little hesitation, he said that he would call again in the course of the morning.”
This colloquy between Markham and his clerk was scarcely finished, when Sir Andrew Featherstone made his appearance. The worthy baronet was indeed very serious in his looks; and as his usual manner was one of great levity, his serious moods were clumsily gloomy.
“Mr. Markham,” said the baronet, “have you recently seen our good old friend, Mr. Martindale?”
“I saw him, Sir Andrew,” replied Markham, “a few days ago on his way to Trimmerstone.”
“You have not heard from him since?” inquired the baronet; and as he made the inquiry he looked very grave.
Markham of course concluded that some serious accident had befallen his friend, or that he was no more. With anxious eagerness, therefore, he asked, “I am afraid, Sir Andrew, by this question, that you are the bearer of some painful intelligence respecting my worthy friend.”