awaited more. But in vain. I ought to have
remembered that in his moods Hemlock Jones was reticence itself. I
told him simply of the strange intrusion, but he only laughed.

Later, when I arose to go, he looked at me playfully. "If you were a
married man," he said, "I would advise you not to go home until you had
brushed your sleeve. There are a few short brown sealskin hairs on the
inner side of your forearm, just where they would have adhered if your
arm had encircled a seal-skin coat with some pressure!"

"For once you are at fault," I said triumphantly; "the hair is my own,
as you will perceive; I have just had it cut at the hairdresser's, and
no doubt this arm projected beyond the apron."

He frowned slightly, yet, nevertheless, on my turning to go he embraced
me warmly--a rare exhibition in that man of ice. He even helped me on
with my overcoat and pulled out and smoothed down the flaps of my
pockets. He was particular, too, in fitting my arm in my overcoat
sleeve, shaking the sleeve down from the armhole to the cuff with his
deft fingers. "Come again soon!" he said, clapping me on the back.

"At any and all times," I said enthusiastically; "I only ask ten
minutes twice a day to eat a crust at my office, and four hours' sleep
at night, and the rest of my time is devoted to you always, as you
know."

"It is indeed," he said, with his impenetrable smile.

Nevertheless, I did not find him at home when I next called. One
afternoon, when nearing my own home, I met him in one of his favorite
disguises,--a long blue swallow-tailed coat, striped cotton trousers,
large turn-over collar, blacked face, and white hat, carrying a
tambourine. Of course to others the disguise was perfect, although it
was known to myself, and I passed him--according to an old
understanding between us--without the slightest recognition, trusting
to a later explanation. At another time, as I was making a
professional visit to the wife of a publican at the East End, I saw
him, in the disguise of a broken-down artisan, looking into the window
of an adjacent pawnshop. I was delighted to see that he was evidently
following my suggestions, and in my joy I ventured to tip him a wink;
it was abstractedly returned.

Two days later I received a note appointing a meeting at his lodgings
that night. That meeting, alas! was the one memorable occurrence of my
life, and the last meeting I ever had with Hemlock Jones! I will try
to set it do