Читать книгу The £1,000,000 bank-note, and other new stories онлайн

7 страница из 31

‘They are gone.’ This in the lofty, cold way of that fellow’s tribe.

‘Gone? Gone where?’

‘On a journey.’

‘But whereabouts?’

‘To the Continent, I think.’

‘The Continent?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Which way—by what route?’

‘I can’t say, sir.’

‘When will they be back?’

‘In a month, they said.’

‘A month! Oh, this is awful! Give me some sort of idea of how to get a word to them. It’s of the last importance.’

‘I can’t, indeed. I’ve no idea where they’ve gone, sir.’

‘Then I must see some member of the family.’

‘Family’s away too; been abroad months—in Egypt and India, I think.’

‘Man, there’s been an immense mistake made. They’ll be back before night. Will you tell them I’ve been here, and that I will keep coming till it’s all made right, and they needn’t be afraid?’

‘I’ll tell them, if they come back, but I am not expecting them. They said you would be here in an hour to make inquiries, but I must tell you it’s all right, they’ll be here on time and expect you.’

So I had to give it up and go away. What a riddle it all was! I was like to lose my mind. They would be here ‘on time.’ What could that mean? Oh, the letter would explain, maybe. I had forgotten the letter; I got it out and read it. This is what it said: