The driver touched his horse, and the hansom was out of sight in a minute. "I wonder what _that_ means," thought Mr. Williams. "For certain the governor was in a rare taking when he heard they were here." But all the "takings" in which Mr. Werner had ever been were as nothing compared with that which overwhelmed Mrs. Werner when she heard of Dolly's departure. She heard of that sooner than Dolly intended; for Messrs. Forde and Kleinwort, having driven down in the evening to see what pressure could be put upon Mrs. Mortomley to induce her to do what ought in Mr. Forde's formula "to have been done long before, make the St. Vedast Wharf people secure," came straight onto Mr. Werner's house in quest of the missing lady. "Mr. and Mrs. Mortomley have gone, sir," explained the butler, who knew the manager as an occasional guest at his master's table. "Gone, nonsense!" repeated Mr. Forde, pushing his way into the hall, and looking askance at the signs of feasting pervading the Werner establishment with an expression which said plainly, 'Just like all the rest of them. He can give parties while I am standing on the edge of a precipice. He has no thought for _me_.' "I assure you, sir," answered the man, "Mr. and Mrs. Mortomley left here more than an hour ago. I assisted Mr. Mortomley into the cab myself." "Then I must see Mr. Werner," said Mr. Forde determinedly. "I am afraid--that he is engaged. We have company to-night, sir." Mr. Forde turned as if he would have annihilated the speaker. "He will see me," he shouted; "tell him I am here." And he strode into the so-called library, the door of which stood open, followed by Kleinwort, who, perhaps because he felt ashamed, perhaps because he was cold, looked curiously small and down-hearted. After all, as he confided subsequently to Mr. Werner, it was none so pleasant being dragged across country and through town like a dog on the chain by even a companion charming as Forde. "Shall I take your hat," inquired Williams, whose ideas of propriety were outraged by the sight of Mr. Forde seated in Mr. Werner's own chair in that sacred and solemn chamber, his hat on, his fingers beating the devil's own tattoo on the table. "No," he growled, and the man retreated, catching sight as he went of a significant shrug of Mr. Kleinwort's shoulders. Almost instantly Mr. Werner appeared. The butler opened the door for him to enter and forgot to shut it again. "I want to see Mortomley," began Mr. Forde, without preface of any kind; "if he is well enough to travel, he is well enough to face his creditors." "I will send and tell him you are here," answered Mr. Werner. "No, I will go to him without any first message being delivered," said the other with an angry sneer.