"But the man was called Gorton, not Gordon. You must have caught up
the wrong name, Taylor. Or perhaps he misunderstood you. That's all; you
may go now."
The clerk departed. Mr. Carr took his hat and followed him down; but
before joining Lord Hartledon he turned into the Temple Gardens, and
strolled towards the river; a few moments of fresh air--fresh to those
hard-worked denizens of close and crowded London--seemed absolutely
necessary to the barrister's heated brain.
He sat down on a bench facing the water, and bared his brow to the
breeze. A cool head, his; never a cooler brought thought to bear upon
perplexity; nevertheless it was not feeling very collected now. He could
not reconcile sundry discrepancies in the trouble he was engaged in
fathoming, and he saw no release whatever for Lord Hartledon.
"It has only complicated the affair," he said, as he watched the steamers
up and down, "this calling in Green the detective, and the news he
brings. Gordon the Gordon of the mutiny! I don't like it: the other
Gordon, simple enough and not bad-hearted, was easy to deal with in
comparison; this man, pirate, robber, murderer, will stand at nothing. We
should have a hold on him, it's true, in his own crime; but what's to
prevent his keeping himself out of the way, and selling Hartledon to
another? Why he has not sold him yet, I can't think. Unless for some
reason he is waiting his time.
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