Directly Mr. Brooks had gone, Mr. Marston took a hansom and drove over to Birnie’s. Dr. Birnie was in, and on this occasion Rebecca admitted the visitor without any preliminary parleying through the flap. Mr. Edward Marston was a very different-looking person in his faultless clothes to the seedy-looking fellow who had once aroused Rebecca’s suspicions as to the honesty of his intentions. ‘Well, Marston,’ said the doctor, as his visitor was ushered in, ‘come to see me again?’ ‘Yes, old fellow, and of course I want a favour.’ ‘I’m sorry to hear it. The favours you generally want are expensive ones.’ ‘You’re needlessly rude, Birnie,’ answered Marston, eyeing his old companion disdainfully. ‘I’ve never asked you for anything but the payment of a just debt. I am happy to say I am now quite independent of the assistance of my _friends_.’ He spoke the last word with a scornful accent. As soon as Birnie understood that Marston had not come to him for money, his manner changed, and he was as cordial as he had previously been cold. ‘Excuse me, old boy,’ he said, ‘if I was rude; but I’ve been a good deal worried and overworked lately, and I’m tetchy. What can I do for you?’ ‘Give me an introduction to your solicitors, Grigg and Limpet.’ ‘What the deuce do you want with solicitors, Ned?’ said Birnie, with a look of genuine astonishment. ‘Well, you see, I’ve followed your example and Gurth’s—I’ve gone up in the world a little. I’ve had a bit of luck, and I’ve got some property coming to me. I want a respectable firm of solicitors. I thought you wouldn’t object to give me a letter to yours.’ Birnie hesitated a moment. He was afraid of Marston. Still, he thought to himself, if it was anything wrong he wouldn’t go to Grigg and Limpet. ‘You hesitate,’ said Marston, watching Birnie’s countenance. ‘What’s your objection?’ ‘None, my dear boy,’ answered the doctor hastily. ‘Of course I’ll give it you. Glad to do anything I can for you.’ While the doctor was writing the letter of introduction for Marston to take to Grigg and Limpet, the latter turned to the mantelpiece, where several visiting-cards were lying about. He handled them carelessly till he came to one which he lifted up and looked at eagerly. ‘Hullo!’ he said, ‘then Gurth’s been here?’ ‘Yes,’ said Birnie, still writing. ‘I saw a paragraph in the papers that he’d been saved from the wreck after all, and carried back to America by a passing vessel, but I didn’t know he was in town.’ ‘Yes; he’s been back some time.’ ‘Where’s he staying?’ Birnie hesitated. Should he tell him? After all, if he didn’t, Marston could soon find out. Let Egerton take care of himself. If Marston wanted to bleed him, he would, and nothing could stop him. Still Birnie didn’t like the idea of anyone but himself having any influence over Gurth, and for very good reasons. He hesitated so long that Marston repeated the question.