But Mr.Lindsey was sharp enough of his wits even at that hour, and before we set off from Berwick he wrote out a telegram to Mr.Gavin Smeaton, asking him to meet us in Edinburgh during the day, so that Mr.Portlethorpe might make his acquaintance.

This telegram he left with his housekeeper--to be dispatched as soon as the post-office was open.

And then we were off, and by half-past eight were at breakfast in the Waverley Station; and as the last stroke of ten was sounding from the Edinburgh clocks we were walking into the premises of the Scottish-American Bank.
The manager, who presently received us in his private rooms, looked at Mr.Lindsey and Mr.Portlethorpe with evident surprise--it may have been that there was mystery in their countenances.

I know that I, on my part, felt as if a purblind man might have seen that I was clothed about with mystery from the crown of my head to the sole of my foot! And he appeared still more surprised when Mr.Lindsey, briefly, but fully, explained why we had called upon him.
"Of course, I've read the newspapers about your strange doings at Berwick," he observed, when Mr.Lindsey--aided by some remarks from Mr.
Portlethorpe--had come to the end of his explanation.

"And I gather that you now want to know what we, here, know of Sir Gilbert Carstairs and Mr.
John Paley.