s heels, clamouring to have the horse put to in the gig, and to be
driven to London instantly. He said, "Pay yourself what you please"--and
opened his pocket-book, full of bank-notes. Mr. Gregg said, "It seems,
sir, this is a matter of life or death." Whereupon he looked at Mr.
Gregg--and considered a little--and, becoming quiet on a sudden,
answered, "Yes, it is."

On the road to London, he never once spoke--except to himself--and then
only from time to time.

It seemed, judging by what fell from him now and then, that he was
troubled about a man and a letter. He had suspected the man all along;
but he had nevertheless given him the letter--and now it had ended in
the letter turning out badly for Doctor Benjulia himself. Where he went
to in London, it was not possible to say. Mr. Gregg's horse was not fast
enough for him. As soon as he could find one, he took a cab.

The shopman of Mr. Barrable, the famous publisher of medical works, had
just put up the shutters, and was going downstairs to his tea, when he
heard a knocking at the shop door. The person proved to be a very tall
man, in a violent hurry to buy Mr. Ovid Vere's new book. He said, by
way of apology, that he was in that line himself, and that his name was
Benjulia. The shopman knew him by reputation, and sold him the book. He
was in such a hurry to read it, that he actually began in the shop. It
was necessary to tell him that business hours were over. Hearing this,
he ran out, and told the cabman to drive as fast as possible to Pall
Mall.

The library waiter at Doctor Benjulia's Club found him in the library,
busy with a book.

He was quite alone; the members, at that hour of the evening, being
generally at dinner, or in the smoking-room. The man whose business it
was to attend to the fires, went in during the night, from time to
time, and always found him in the same corner. It began to get late.
He finished his reading; but it seemed to make no difference. There he
sat--wide awake--holding his closed book on his knee, seemingly lost in
his own thoughts. This went on till it was time to close the Club. They
were obliged to disturb him. He said nothing; and went slowly down into
the hall, leaving his book behind him. It was an awful night, raining
and sleeting--but he took no notice of the weather. When they fetched a
cab, the driver refused to take him to where he lived, on such a night
as that. He only said, "Very well; go to the nearest hotel."

The