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"This man who knew Mr. Ashton?" interrupted Viner. "Where is he?" "Dr. Martincole will bring him in," said Mrs. Killenhall, "Come upstairs, Mr. Viner." Viner noticed that the house through which he was led was very quiet, and larger than he should have guessed at from the street frontage.
"Yes, but I'm a good deal surprised to find you and Miss Wickham in this neighbourhood," answered Viner. "This is a queer place, Mrs. Killenhall. I hope " "Oh, we're all right!" said Mrs. Killenhall, with a reassuring smile. "It is certainly a queer neighbourhood, but Dr. Martincole is an old friend of mine, and we're safe enough under his roof. He'll be here in a few minutes, and then "
"And possibly a much more pertinent question," said Viner, "where is this Dr. Martincole? Look here: this is a well-furnished room; those pictures are good; there are many valuable things here; yet the man who practises here is only in attendance for an hour or two in an afternoon, and once a week for rather longer in the evening.
"Swell!" answered the informant. "Proper swell, he was!" "And Dr. Martincole?" Viner continued. "You've seen him many a time, of course. Now what's he like!" "He's a tall gentleman," said the boy, after some evidently painful thought. "Yes, but what else has he got a beard?" asked Viner.
"My dear fellow," he said, "you should have posted somebody at the back here. Why, we don't quite know yet, but Miss Wickham and myself were trapped in there. As for Cave, he must be the man who went away with Martincole. As for Mrs. Killenhall, she too has gone. That boy down there saw all three go, some time ago, while we were locked up. But what made you watch these people?"
"Yes that is so," answered Viner, who was distinctly puzzled. "Yet but then, all this seems very odd. When did you come down here?" "About an hour ago," replied Miss Wickham, "in a hurry." "Do you know why?" asked Viner. "To see a Dr. Martincole, who is to tell us something about Mr. Ashton," replied his fellow-sharer in these strange quarters. "Didn't Mrs.
From what he could see, it was well furnished, but dark and gloomy; gloomy, too, was a back room, high up the stairs, into which Mrs. Killenhall presently showed him. There, looking somewhat anxious, sat Miss Wickham, alone. "Here's Mr. Viner," said Mrs. Killenhall. "I'll tell Dr. Martincole he's come." She motioned Viner to a chair and went out. But the next instant Viner swung quickly round.
On the door was a brass plate, also tarnished, across which ran three lines in black: "Dr. Martincole. Attendance: 3 to 6 p. m. Saturdays. 5 to 9.30 p. m." Before Viner took the bell in hand, he glanced at the houses which flanked this East-end surgery. One was a poor-looking, meanly equipped chemist's shop; the other a second-hand clothing establishment.
Martincole this afternoon? You know, the doctor who comes to the house behind us?" "See him go out abaht an hour ago, guv'nor wiv anuvver gent," said the lad eagerly, his bright eyes wavering between Viner's face and the hand which he had thrust in his pocket. He pointed to the distant entrance of the yard. "Went aht that way, they did." "Ah! And what was the other gentleman like?" asked Viner.
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