thousands.

If he could but have walked straight out of the hotel! But he could
not. His dignity, the most precious of all his possessions, had to be
maintained. Possibly Krupp had overheard the conversation, or divined
its nature. He strolled back into the lounge.

"A benedictine," he ordered casually, and, neatly pulling up his
trousers at the knee, sank into a basket-chair and crossed his legs,
while blowing forth much smoke.

"Yes, sir."

When Krupp brought the tiny glass, Louis paid for it without looking
at him, and gave a good tip. Ah! He would have liked to peer into
Krupp's inmost mind and know exactly how Krupp had been discussing
him with Jim Horrocleave. He would have liked to tell Krupp in cutting
tones that waiters had no right to chatter to one customer about
another. And then he would have liked to destroy Krupp. But he could
not. His godlike dignity would not permit him to show by even the
slightest gesture that he had been inconvenienced. The next moment he
perceived that Providence had been watching over him. If he had gone
to America unknown to Horrocleave, Horrocleave might indeed have
proved seriously awkward.... Extradition--was there such a word, and
such a thing? He finished the benedictine, went to the cloak-room
and obtained his hat, coat, stick, and parcel; and the hovering Krupp
helped him with his overcoat; and as Destiny cast him out of the dear
retreat which a little earlier he had entered with such pleasurable
anticipations, he was followed down the corridor by the aloof,
disinterested gaze of the Swiss whose enigma no Staffordshire man had
ever penetrated.

CHAPTER XVIII

MRS. TAMS'S STRANGE BEHAVIOUR

I

In the house at Bycars, where he arrived tardily after circuitous
wanderings, Louis first of all dropped the parcel from Faulkner's into
the oak chest, raising and lowering the lid without any noise. Once,
in the train in Bleakridge tunnel, he had almost thrown the parcel out
of the carriage on to the line, as though it were in some subtle way
a piece of evidence against him; but, aided by his vanity, he had
resisted the impulse. Why, indeed, should he be afraid of a parcel of
linen? Had he not the right to buy linen when and how he chose? Then
he removed his hat and coat, hung them carefully in their proper
place, smoothed his hair, and walked straight into the parlour. He had
a considerable gift of behaving as though nothing out of the ordinary
had happened when t