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With genuine and heartfelt emotion they shook hands and looked into each other's eyes these two who had not met for long years, since the rollicksome days of student life in Paris when they had been as intimate as brothers. "You're fit as a king, my boy not much changed," spluttered Drexell, with a strong American accent to his kindly, mellow voice.
At the same hour, or a little later, Jimmie Drexell was at Hastings. Having to wait some time for another train, he walked through the pretty town to the sea, and the sight of its glorious beauty the embodiment of untrammeled freedom made him think sadly of poor Jack in a prison cell. "Never mind, I'll have him out soon!" he vowed.
With a boisterous exclamation of delight he rushed up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Clare, old boy!" he cried. "Jimmie Drexell!" Jack gasped in amazement. "Dear old chap, how awfully glad I am to see you!"
At the top of the Haymarket, to his chagrin, he encountered Jimmie Drexell, who urged him to have a drink at Scott's; he could not well refuse, as it was nearly a fortnight since they had met. A quarter of an hour slipped by. Jimmie asked a great many questions, but Jack was preoccupied and uneasy, and scarcely answered them.
Jack hesitated, and finally gave in; it was hard for him to resist a woman's tears and entreaties least of all when that woman was his fascinating little wife. A moment later he was in the street, walking rapidly toward the studio of his American friend and fellow-artist, Jimmie Drexell. "How Diane twists me around her finger!" he reflected ruefully.
For the last of the West End restaurants were putting out their lights and closing their doors when Jimmie Drexell, coming home from a "smoker" at the Langham Sketch Club, ran across Bertie Raven in Piccadilly. It was a fortunate meeting.
How do I know that this letter is not a forgery? Perhaps young Drexell never saw it." It was a slim ray of hope, but Sir Lucius took some comfort from it. He put on his hat, took his stick, and marched down stairs. As he passed through the office, a clerk handed him a letter that had just been brought in.
Having thus disposed of the matter, he went to town, and he and Drexell dined together and spent the evening at the Palace, where the newest attraction was an American dancer with whom the susceptible Jimmie had more than a nodding acquaintance, a fact that possibly had something to do with his hasty visit to London.
Jimmie Drexell is coming, and I am going to drive him down. We will stop and pick you up on the way. An answer will oblige, if not too much trouble." He put the invitation in an envelope and addressed it. Then he pulled the bell-cord, and a boy shortly entered the room with a tray containing breakfast and a little heap of letters.
Tenby, who was suffering from a headache, did little but watch the proceedings. The inquiry was adjourned, and John Vernon was remanded in custody for a week. But much was destined to occur in the interval. The solicitor had a formidable rival in the person of Jimmie Drexell. The shrewd American, keeping eyes and ears open, had formed suspicions in regard to the principal witness for the Crown.
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