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Chapter 27
Well,Iwasevenenvyingthisdumbbrute,whenthedoorfellopenandthereissuedforthashrewd,ruddy,kindly,consequentialmaninawell-powderedwigandspectacles.Iwasinsuchaplightthatnooneseteyesonmeonce,buthelookedatmeagain;andthisgentleman,asitproved,wassomuchstruckwithmypoorappearancethathecamestraightuptomeandaskedmewhatIdid.
ItoldhimIwascometotheQueensferryonbusiness,andtakingheartofgrace,askedhimtodirectmetothehouseofMr.Rankeillor.
“Why,”saidhe,“thatishishousethatIhavejustcomeoutof;andforarathersingularchance,Iamthatveryman.”
“Then,sir,”saidI,“Ihavetobegthefavourofaninterview.”
“Idonotknowyourname,”saidhe,“noryetyourface.”
“MynameisDavidBalfour,”saidI.
“DavidBalfour?”herepeated,inratherahightone,likeonesurprised.“Andwherehaveyoucomefrom,Mr.DavidBalfour?”heasked,lookingmeprettydrilyintheface.
“Ihavecomefromagreatmanystrangeplaces,sir,”saidI;“butIthinkitwouldbeaswelltotellyouwhereandhowinamoreprivatemanner.”
Heseemedtomuseawhile,holdinghislipinhishand,andlookingnowatmeandnowuponthecausewayofthestreet.
“Yes,”sayshe,“thatwillbethebest,nodoubt.”Andheledmebackwithhimintohishouse,criedouttosomeonewhomIcouldnotseethathewouldbeengagedallmorning,andbroughtmeintoalittledustychamberfullofbooksanddocuments.
