like to have
finished the education his father had so gallantly begun. There was
something irresistibly attractive about him, so modest, so unassuming,
and yet so straightforward and gentlemanly.

Dropping him opposite the bathing machines, I went on to my own
anchorage on the other side of the pier. Then I pulled myself ashore and
went up to the town. I had forgotten to write an important letter that
morning, and as it was essential that the business should be attended to
at once, to repair my carelessness, I crossed the public gardens and
went through the gardens to the post office to send a telegram.

I must tell you here that since my meeting with Mr. Baxter, the young
Marquis's tutor, I had been thinking a great deal about him, and the
more I thought the more certain I became that we had met before. To tell
the truth, a great distrust of the man was upon me. It was one of those
peculiar antipathies that no one can explain. I did not like his face,
and I felt sure that he did not boast any too much love for me.

As my thoughts were still occupied with him, my astonishment may be
imagined, on arriving at the building, at meeting him face to face upon
the steps. He seemed much put out at seeing me, and hummed and hawed
over his "Good-afternoon" for all the world as if I had caught him in
the middle of some guilty action.

Returning his salutation, I entered the building and looked about me for
a desk at which to write my wire. There was only one vacant, and I
noticed that the pencil suspended on the string was still swinging to
and fro as it had been dropped. Now Baxter had only just left the
building, so there could be no possible doubt that it was he who had
last used the stand. I pulled the form towards me and prepared to write.
But as I did so I noticed that the previous writer had pressed so hard
upon his pencil that he had left the exact impression of his message
plainly visible upon the pad. It ran as follows:

"LETTER RECEIVED. YOU OMMITTED REVEREDN. THE TRAIN IS LAID, BUT A
NEW ELEMENT OF DANGER HAS ARISEN."

It was addressed to "Nikola, _Green Sailor Hotel_, East India Dock Road,
London," and was signed "Nineveh."

The message was so curious that I looked at it again, and the longer I
looked the more certain I became that Baxter was the sender. Partly
because its wording interested me, and partly for another reason which
will become apparent later on, I inked the message over, tore it from