we should know no more of him until the war was
over, and after that I had for some time the pleasure of forgetting his
existence. Unfortunately, however, I had overlooked Stephen.

Stephen and I were talking of the war (and incidentally having dinner
together) when he told me that a man he knew had told him of a strange
coincidence of which his nephew had told him. A friend of his who was at
the Front had been in the habit of dining at a certain restaurant where
a German waiter----

"Karl," I said.

"You've heard about it?" he asked.

"Only yesterday," I said, "I met a friend who knew someone who was
present at the inquest."

"The inquest!"

"Yes," I said. "He shot himself through the heart with one of the seven
hundred and twenty-five rifles which were found in her dress-basket."

I didn't allow him to interrupt me.

"He had only recently become engaged to her, I believe. She had been a
trusted nurse and governess in many English families for many years,
etc., etc. Some day I will tell you all about her. It's a long, long
story and rather depressing. But about Karl. His mind had undoubtedly
become unhinged and, after escaping from Holland, he found his way to
the house where she was employed, learnt that she had been arrested (you
see, the red stitches on her handkerchief, which everyone had supposed
were laundry marks, turned out to be plans of Hampton Court Maze and the
most direct route to Swan and Selfinsons), and, seizing the rifle, he
rushed from the house (it was the night the Russians passed through
Aberdeen and Upper Norwood) and----"

Stephen apologised to me.

"Karl shall be no more," he said. "Karl the ubiquitous is dead."

"Evening papers please copy," I added.

* * * * *

Illustration: CARRYING ON.

_Old Sportsman._ "WELL, TOM, BACK INTO HARNESS AGAIN?"

_Tom (retired Huntsman)._ "YES, SIR; ONLY SECOND WHIP NOW. DIDN'T THINK
TO SEE _YOU_ HUNTIN' AGAIN, SIR."

_Old Sportsman._ "JUST TRYING TO KEEP THINGS GOING TILL THE LADS COME
BACK AGAIN."

* * * * *

THE SEARCH FOR PADDINGTON.

I do not say that the expedition I propose to describe was accompanied
by any very great risk. The streets, of course, were dark and the taxis
and motor-buses were quite up to the usual average in number and well
above it in speed. Still, when your mind is full of stories of shrapnel
and Black Marias, you feel able to affront motor vehicles,