ready money), I arrived in
Chicago late at night without a cent on me. Beyond the clothes I had on,
I had nothing; consequently, on my presenting myself at a hotel with the
request for a night's lodging, I was curtly refused. One hotel after
another, one house after another, I tried, but always with the same
result; having no luggage, and being unable to pay a deposit, no one
would take me. The night advanced; the streets became rougher and
rougher, for Chicago just then was teeming with the scum of the earth,
ruffians of every description, who would cheerfully have cut any man's
throat simply for the sake of his clothes. All around me was a sea of
swarthy faces with insolent, sinister eyes that flashed and glittered in
the gaslight. I was pushed, jostled, and cursed, and the bare thought of
having to spend a whole night amid such a foul, cut-throat horde filled
me with dismay. Yet what could I do? Clearly nothing, until the morning,
when I should be able to explain my position to the British Consul. The
knowledge that in all the crises through which I had hitherto passed, my
guardian spirit had never deserted me, gave me hope, and I prayed
devoutly that it would now come to my assistance and help me to get to
some place of shelter.

Time passed, and as my prayers were not answered, I repeated them with
increased vigour. Then, quite suddenly, a man stepped out from the dark
entrance to a by-street, and, touching me lightly on the arm, said, "Is
there anything amiss? I have been looking at you for some time, and a
feeling has come over me that you need assistance. What is the matter?"
I regarded the speaker earnestly, and, convinced that he was honest,
told him my story, whereupon to my delight he at once said, "I think I
can help you, for a friend of mine runs a small but thoroughly
respectable hotel close to here, and, if you like to trust yourself to
my guidance, I will take you there and explain your penniless
condition." I accepted his offer; what he said proved to be correct; the
hotel-keeper believed my story, and I passed the night in decency and
comfort. In the morning the proprietor lent me the requisite amount of
money for a cablegram to Europe. My bank in England cabled to a bank in
Chicago, and the hotel-keeper generously made himself responsible for my
identity; the draft was cashed, and I was once again able to proceed on
my journey. But what caused the man in the street to notice me? What
prompted him to