bowed.

William Tyrwhitt--a master of nervous English--muttered "Great Scott!"
under his breath.

"Permit me," said the stranger--and he held out to us a tin pannikin
(produced from Heaven knows where) that swam with fragrance.

I shook my head. William Tyrwhitt, that fated man, did otherwise. He
accepted the vessel and drained it.

"It smacks of all Castille," he said, handing it back with a sigh of
ecstasy. "Who the devil are you, sir?"

The stranger gave a little crow.

"Peregrine Iron, sir, at your service--Captain Penegrine Iron, of the
_Raven_ sloop amongst others. You are very welcome to the run of my poor
abode."

"Yours?" I murmured in confusion. "We owe you a thousand apologies."

"Not at all," he said, addressing all his courtesy to William. Me, since
my rejection of his beaker, he took pains to ignore.

"Not at all," he said. "Your intrusion was quite natural under the
circumstances. I take a pleasure in being your cicerone. This cabin (he
waved his hand pompously)--a fancy of mine, sir, a fancy of mine. The
actual material of the latest of my commands brought hither and adapted
to the exigencies of shore life. It enables me to live eternally in the
past--a most satisfying illusion. Come to-night and have a pipe and a
glass with me."

I thought William Tyrwhitt mad.

"I will come, by all means," he said.

The stranger bowed us out of the room.

"That is right," he exclaimed. "You will find me here. Good-bye for the
present."

As we plunged like dazed men into the street, now grown sunny, I turned
on my friend.

"William," I said, "did you happen to look back as we left the cabin?"

"No."

"I did."

"Well?"

"There was no stranger there at all. The place was empty."

"Well?"

"You will not go to-night?"

"You bet I do."

I shrugged my shoulders. We walked on a little way in silence. Suddenly
my companion turned on me, a most truculent expression on his face.

"For an independent thinker," he said, "you are rather a pusillanimous
jackass. A man of your convictions to shy at a shadow! Fie, sir, fie!
What if the room _were_ empty? The place was full enough of traps to
permit of Captain Iron's immediate withdrawal."

Much may be expressed in a sniff. I sniffed.

That afternoon I went back to town, and left the offensive William to his
fate.

* * * * *

It found him at once.

The very day following that of my retreat, I was polishing phrases