night in the little town and going on next day by a slower, emptier
train, flashed into his mind. The guard was already shouting "_en
voiture_" and the corridor of his compartment was already packed when
the thought came to him. And, for once, he acted with decision and
rushed to snatch his bag.

Finding the corridor and steps impassable, he tapped at the window (for
he had a corner seat) and begged the Frenchman who sat opposite to hand
his luggage out to him, explaining in his wretched French that he
intended to break the journey there. And this elderly Frenchman, he
declared, gave him a look, half of warning, half of reproach, that to
his dying day he could never forget; handed the bag through the window
of the moving train; and at the same time poured into his ears a long
sentence, spoken rapidly and low, of which he was able to comprehend
only the last few words: "_a cause du sommeil et a cause des chats_."

In reply to Dr. Silence, whose singular psychic acuteness at once seized
upon this Frenchman as a vital point in the adventure, Vezin admitted
that the man had impressed him favourably from the beginning, though
without being able to explain why. They had sat facing one another
during the four hours of the journey, and though no conversation had
passed between them--Vezin was timid about his stuttering French--he
confessed that his eyes were being continually drawn to his face,
almost, he felt, to rudeness, and that each, by a dozen nameless little
politenesses and attentions, had evinced the desire to be kind. The men
liked each other and their personalities did not clash, or would not
have clashed had they chanced to come to terms of acquaintance. The
Frenchman, indeed, seemed to have exercised a silent protective
influence over the insignificant little Englishman, and without words or
gestures betrayed that he wished him well and would gladly have been of
service to him.

"And this sentence that he hurled at you after the bag?" asked John
Silence, smiling that peculiarly sympathetic smile that always melted
the prejudices of his patient, "were you unable to follow it exactly?"

"It was so quick and low and vehement," explained Vezin, in his small
voice, "that I missed practically the whole of it. I only caught the few
words at the very end, because he spoke them so clearly, and his face
was bent down out of the carriage window so near to mine."

"'_A cause du sommeil et a cause des chats'?_" repeated Dr.