Ah, I see. And this permit?"

"Ah, that belongs to my pupil, Nigel Fairleigh. We can cut that off.
Lady Milton should have had it with her, but they are not very strict
at Ostend, and I suppose her rank proved an open sesame."

"Black eyes," he read, "black hair, sharp features, high forehead,
height, five feet three. My dear Monsieur Mortimer," and he turned
eagerly toward me, "you would do me a real service, you would lay the
noble Dressdorf under the greatest obligation, if you would permit our
young charge to use this passport. It describes him to a T. The
critical nature of events, the necessity for caution, the delicate
health of the boy--nay, do not look shocked; such things are done every
day--will excuse the trifling impropriety----"

"Impossible!"

Taking no notice of the interruption, he continued. "And to tell the
truth, it was just this that bothered me. A Belgian passport is looked
upon with much suspicion, and is likely to lead to inquiry; but armed
with this, you may go from here to the Oural mountains without a
question."

At first I refused point-blank, but at last resigned myself to his
sophistry, and the bargain was closed.

"When can I see the youth?" I asked.

"Now, monsieur. I will at once escort you to the _pension_ of the Porte
de Schaerbeck, and introduce him to you."

Fifty boys of Belgian, French, American, and English extraction, seated
at a long table enjoying their afternoon's "goute"--a post-meridian
lunch of weak brandy-and-water and grapes; a bald _maitre d'ecole_
periodically crying, "Si-i-i-lence, messieurs. Restez-vous tranquilles!"
like a sheriff in a court of law. Such a scene met my view. I
recognized my youth in a moment; there was no mistaking the clear,
well-defined features, raven hair, and black eyes of the gentle lad who
rose to greet my companion with a grace and assurance that checked
remonstrance on the part of the half-offended usher, who simply solaced
himself with a shrug of the shoulders and a more than usually prolonged
"Si-i-i-i-i-lence, messieurs. Restez-vous tranquilles!"

"This is the gentleman, Jules, who has kindly consented to take you
home, and it is arranged that you start to-morrow," said the advocate.

The boy's big eyes looked into mine with an inquiring gaze, and then,
taking my hand, he quaintly said:

"I like you."

There was nothing impertinent in the tone or manner; it was the hearty
expression of his unsophisticated thought.

"He is