He was not long in reaching the old street which had so taken up his attention before, and he looked long and attentively at the mansion adjoining that occupied by the collector. The contrast was curious, the one with bright, well-curtained windows, the door glistening in its fresh graining and varnish, the other dim, unpainted, looking as if it were quite unoccupied, the very steps as if they had not been cleaned for years. Chester went and studied a Directory, and with the name Clareborough upon his lips, he determined, after passing through the street two or three times, to risk making a call. "Why should I mind?" he muttered. "If I am wrong, I have only made a mistake." He walked on till he reached the house, perfectly unconscious that the footman was standing a little back from one of the narrow windows, and after having his attention drawn to the vacillating, rather haggard personage who had been taking so much interest in the house, was ready to look upon him with suspicion. "Begging letter dodges, or something to sell," said the footman to himself, as the visitors' bell was rung, and after waiting a sufficient time to suggest that he had come from downstairs, the fellow opened the door, to receive Chester with a calm stare. "Mr Clareborough in?" "Not at home, sir." "Mr Robert is, of course?" "Out of town, sir." "Well, I must see somebody," said Chester, who had been checked for the moment by the announcement that Mr Robert was out of town, but encouraged by the fact that two shots went home. "Ask Mr Paddy if he will see me." The nickname made the footman raise his eyebrows, but he replied coolly-- "Not at home, sir." "Well, then, one of the ladies." "On the Continent, sir." "Tut, tut, how tiresome!" cried Chester, impatiently. "Look here, my man; how is Mr Robert?" "Quite well, thank you, sir," said the man, superciliously. Chester stared at the man. He had evidently been schooled what to say, and for the moment the visitor hesitated, but recovering his _sang-froid_ the next moment, he said-- "Rather strange that, after so serious an accident." At that moment the butler came forward from the back of the hall, pulling the door a little more open, and Chester drew a deep breath full of satisfaction, as he caught sight of one of the statues and a chair, on the back of which was emblazoned the same crest as he had seen upon the seal. "What is it, Orthur," said the butler in a deep, mellow voice suggestive of port wine. "Gentleman asking to see Mr Robert, sir." "Yes, I particularly wish to see him," said Chester. "I am the medical man who attended him after his accident." "I beg pardon, sir." "I say I am the medical man who attended him after his late accident, and I wish to see my patient again." The butler glared at the speaker in a heavy, solemn way, and then turned slowly to his subordinate, who raised his eyebrows and drew down the corners of his lips.