Mannering the next. But that is neither here nor there. Anyhow, I
heartily wished him out of the way, for there was no doubt whatever that
Randolph Mannering was a much more attractive person than my
insignificant self. His mere advantage in age counted for something; but
I could have forgiven him that, had he not made use of the years to see
so much and do so much, that he could not help appearing in the light of
a hero to a girl who was just at the worshipping age. And he knew so
well how to get the fullest value out of his experiences. He never
paraded them, I must admit that much in his favour. He was far too
clever. An anecdote here and there to illustrate some point in the
conversation, a modest account of some thrilling adventure, in which he
hardly ever mentioned the part he had personally played, produced a much
greater effect than if he had gone about trumpeting the deeds he had
done and the dangers he had survived.

He had, too, the advantage of a much longer acquaintance with the
Maitlands than myself. I learned from the Colonel that Mannering had
been living in a house whose garden adjoined his own for a year before
my arrival on the scene. His life, until the Colonel had recognized him
as an acquaintance he had made at the house of a friend some years
before, had been that of a recluse, the object of his retirement being
to perfect some mechanical invention upon which he was engaged. He had
soon developed into a friend of the family, and I had found him firmly
installed as such when I made my appearance at St. Albans.

Naturally then I was none too pleased that Winter had proposed to take
him into our confidence, but I made no absolute objection.

I sat smoking quietly while Winter told the story of our adventure. He
listened most attentively.

"It's a most extraordinary story," he remarked, when the narrative was
concluded. "You are quite sure neither of you touched any of that
port?"

Winter turned one of his pockets inside out with an expressive gesture.

"Wine may rob a man of his wits," he replied, "but it does not relieve
him of fifty pounds in notes, six in gold, a watch and chain worth
fifty, and a diamond which has been valued at a hundred."

"The numbers of the notes should enable you to trace the thief," said
Mannering, thoughtfully.

Winter laughed. "The fact is, I am such a careless beggar. I always
carry notes about with me, replenishing my case when necessary; and
really I have not