aned back to run his eye over what
he had written. It was a very brief inspection, and he made no
corrections.

Finally he shook the loose sheets together, added two or three sketches
from his notebook, thrust them into a directed envelope, and went to the
door.

Holmes came to him at once along the passage.

"Get this sealed and dispatched without delay," Mordaunt said. "The
gentleman is still waiting, I suppose?"

"Still waiting, sir," said Holmes.

"He has dined?"

"If you can call it dining, sir."

"Very well. You can go, Holmes."

But Holmes lingered a moment. "Won't you dine yourself, sir?"

"Later on. I am engaged just now. All right. Don't wait."

Holmes shook his head disapprovingly without further words, and turned to
obey.

Mordaunt closed the door and turned the key, then walked slowly across
the room to the window by which the Frenchman had sat that afternoon, and
opened it wide. The night was very dark, and through it the sea moaned
desolately. The wind was rising with the tide and blew in salt and cold,
infinitely refreshing after the stuffy heat of the day. He leaned his
head for a while against the window-frame. There was intense weariness in
his attitude.

He uttered a great sigh at last and stood up, paused a moment, as though
to pull himself together, then, with his customary precision of movement,
he turned from the open window and walked across to the door that led
into the next room. His face was somewhat paler than usual, but perfectly
composed.

Without hesitation he opened the door and spoke. "Now, Bertrand!"

CHAPTER VI

MAN TO MAN

There was a quick movement in answer to the summons, and in a moment the
visitor presented himself. He had taken the false hair from his face, and
his gait was no longer halting. He looked up at Mordaunt with sharp
anxiety as he came through.

"No one else has recognized me?" he asked.

"I believe not."

He drew a quick breath of relief. "_Bien_! It has been an affair _tres
difficile_. I have feared detection _mille fois_. Yet I did not expect
you to recognize me so soon."

"You see, I happen to know you rather well," Mordaunt said.

The Frenchman spread out his hands protestingly. The excitement of the
adventure had flushed his face and kindled his eyes. He looked younger
and more ardent than Mordaunt had ever seen him. The weariness that had
so grown upon him during his exile had fallen from him like a cloak. "But
you do not