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Medler," Gilbert said politely; "your clerk had such a conviction of your being out, that I had some difficulty in convincing him you were at home." "I've only just come in; I suppose Lucas didn't hear me." "I suppose not; I've been here twice before in search of you, as I conclude you have been told. I have expected to hear from you daily."
Medler was sitting at his desk, bending over some formidable document, with the air of a man who is profoundly absorbed by his occupation; with the air also, Gilbert thought, of a man who has been what is vernacularly called "on the listen." "Good-morning, Mr.
Gilbert asked anxiously. "I have every reason to suppose so. She is with her father." Mr. Medler announced this fact as if there were nothing extraordinary in it. Gilbert started to his feet. "What!" he exclaimed; "she is with Mr. Nowell the father who neglected her in her youth, who of course seeks her now only for the sake of her fortune? And you call that being in good hands, Mr. Medler?
He did not consider himself absolved from the promise he had made the old man by Marian's indifference, and was none the less anxious to watch over her interests because she seemed to set so little value on his friendship. He told Mr. Medler who he was, and the promise he had given to Jacob Nowell, abstaining, of course, from any reference to the position he had once occupied towards Marian.
But he was obliged to name some one for his executor, and he named me." "Shall you consider it your duty to seek out or advertise for Percival Nowell?" asked Gilbert. "I shall be in no hurry to do that, in the absence of any proof of his daughter's death. My first duty would be to look for her." "God grant you may be more fortunate than I have been! There is my card, Mr. Medler.
Medler was out, and not likely to come home within any definite time. He was inclined to fancy, by the clerk's manner on his second visit, that there was some desire to avoid an interview on Mr. Medler's part; and this fancy made him all the more anxious to see that gentleman. He did not, therefore, allow much time to elapse between this second visit to the dingy chambers in Soho and a third.
He went through the books every night till a week ago, and he'd as soon have cut his own head off as omit to do it, so long as he could see the figures in the book or hold his pen." Mr. Medler the lawyer came in while Percival Nowell and the shopman were talking. He had been away from his office upon business that evening, and had only just received the tidings of the silversmith's death.
If you'd happened to come in when he was here, I daresay he'd have contrived to slip away somehow without your seeing him." "When did he come here last?" asked Gilbert. "About a fortnight ago. He came with Mr. Medler, the lawyer, who introduced him formally as my master's son; and they took possession of the place between them for Mrs.
This first agent having thus come to grief, and having perhaps made himself a suspected person in the eyes of the Medler office by his manoeuvres, a second spy had been placed to keep close watch upon the house, and to follow any person who at all corresponded with the detective idea of Mr. Nowell.
"And have you taken no further steps, no other means of communicating with her?" Gilbert asked. "Not yet. I think of sending my clerk down to Hampshire, or of going down myself perhaps, in a day or two, if my business engagements will permit me." "Do you not consider the case rather an urgent one, Mr. Medler?
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