at
a moment's notice by a most casual acquaintance, whom he suspected of
being an escaped lunatic.

Bertram Ingledew, for his part, however, advanced towards his companion
of last night with the frank smile and easy bearing of a cultivated
gentleman. He was blissfully unaware of the slight he was putting upon
the respectability of Brackenhurst by appearing on Sunday in his grey
tweed suit; so he only held out his hand as to an ordinary friend, with
the simple words, "You were so extremely kind to me last night, Mr.
Christy, that as I happen to know nobody here in England, I ventured
to come round and ask your advice in unexpected circumstances that have
since arisen."

When Bertram Ingledew looked at him, Philip once more relented. The
man's eye was so captivating. To say the truth, there was something
taking about the mysterious stranger--a curious air of unconscious
superiority--so that, the moment he came near, Philip felt himself
fascinated. He only answered, therefore, in as polite a tone as he could
easily muster, "Why, how did you get to know my name, or to trace me to
my sister's?"

"Oh, Miss Blake told me who you were and where you lived," Bertram
replied most innocently: his tone was pure candour; "and when I went
round to your lodgings just now, they explained that you were out, but
that I should probably find you at Mrs. Monteith's; so of course I came
on here."

Philip denied the applicability of that naive "of course" in his inmost
soul: but it was no use being angry with Mr. Bertram Ingledew. So much
he saw at once; the man was so simple-minded, so transparently natural,
one could not be angry with him. One could only smile at him, a superior
cynical London-bred smile, for an unsophisticated foreigner. So the
Civil Servant asked with a condescending air, "Well, what's your
difficulty? I'll see if peradventure I can help you out of it." For he
reflected to himself in a flash that as Ingledew had apparently a good
round sum in gold and notes in his pocket yesterday, he was not likely
to come borrowing money this morning.

"It's like this, you see," the Alien answered with charming simplicity,
"I haven't got any luggage."

"Not got any luggage!" Philip repeated, awestruck, letting his jaw fall
short, and stroking his clean-shaven chin with one hand. He was more
doubtful than ever now as to the man's sanity or respectability. If
he was not a lunatic, then surely he must be this celebrated Perpignan
m