For the first time in my life I was in London--and alone. There had beenno reply from Mr. Marx to the telegrams commanding his instant return,and so on the third morning after my arrival at Ravenor Castle I quittedit again to go in search of him. Accustomed though he was to conceal hisfeelings, and admirably though he succeeded in doing so in the presenceof his guests, I could see that Mr. Ravenor was deeply anxious to havethe suspicions which my story had awakened either dispelled or confirmed.Nor, indeed, although their purport was scarcely so clear to me, was Iless so.
I suppose that no one, especially if he had never before been in a greatcity, could pass across London for the first time without some emotion ofwonder. To me it was like entering an unknown world. The vast throng ofpeople, the ceaseless din of traffic, and the huge buildings, all filledme with amazement which, as we drove through the Strand to NorthumberlandAvenue, grew into bewilderment. Only the recollection of my mission andits grave import recalled me to myself as the cab drew up before theHotel Metropole.
My bag was taken possession of at once by one of the hall-porters and Iengaged a room. Then I made inquiries about Mr. Marx.
The clerk turned over two or three pages of the ledger and shook hishead. There was no one of that name stopping in the hotel, he informedme.
"Can you tell me whether anyone of that name has been staying here duringthe last week?" I asked.
He made a further search and shook his head.
"We have not had the name of Marx upon our books at all, sir, during myrecollection," he declared. "Quite an uncommon name, too; I shouldcertainly have remembered it."
"There have been letters addressed to him here by that name," I said;"can you tell me what has become of them?"
He shook his head.
"That would not be in my department, sir; you will ascertain by inquiringat the head-porter's bureau round the corner."
I thanked him and made my way thither across the reception hall. Theanswer to my question was given at once.
"There are letters for a Mr. Marx nearly every morning, sir, andtelegrams," said the official; "but I don't think that Mr. Marx himselfis stopping at the hotel; another gentleman always applies for them andsends them on."
"And is the other gentleman staying here?" I asked.
"Yes, sir; No. 110."
"Has he any authority to receive them from Mr. Marx?" I inquired.
"I believe so. He showed us a note from Mr. Marx, asking him to receiveand forward them, and he has to sign, too, for every one he receives. Itis a rule with us that anyone receiving letters not addressed to himselfshould do so, whether he has authority or not."
"Can you tell me his name?" I asked. "I am sorry to give you so muchtrouble, but I particularly wish to ascertain Mr. Marx's whereabouts, andthis gentleman knows it."
"Certainly, sir. John, what is No. 110's name?" he asked an assistant.