This was evidently in completion of his sentence; and then, while in a half-amused, half-contemptuous manner, Lionel Redgrave watched his actions, the man leaned his body first on one side, then on the other, as if, with ultra caution, he were endeavouring to peer behind the two occupants of the room; peeping beneath the table; and finishing the performance by tip-toeing, and straining his neck to look here and there in the most mysterious way imaginable. "Confound you! why don't you look up the chimney while you are about it?" cried Lionel, at last. "What the deuce does the fellow mean?" "It's all right, gentlemen," said the man, taking a handkerchief out of his hat, wiping his face, and then placing the very tall head-covering upon the floor, while out of a shabby old dress-coat pocket he dragged a copy of a newspaper. "Which of you gents is L.R.?" he continued, when, after much jerking and fumbling, he had contrived to open and refold the paper to his taste, and with one extremely dirty finger to fix, as it were, the advertisement. "Never you mind about that," said Lionel, gruffly. "Have you brought the dog?" "Brought the dorg, gentlemen? Now, is it likely?" was the answer, in tones of remonstrance. "Not likely! How could I bring the dorg when I hadn't got it? It was only through seeing that ad. in the paper, that I says, says I, `Why that there's just like the dorg as I see Mr Barkles with'--a dorg as he said follered him 'ome lars night's a week." Lionel growled, and the visitor jerked himself a step forward. "So I says to our Janet, I says, `Jest drop a line,' I says, `to that pore gent as has lost his dorg,' I says; `and I'll see if I can't be the 'appy mejum of gettin' on it back for him.'" "Look here, my man," said Harry, regardless of his pupil's frowns; "bring the dog back, and my friend will pay the offered reward." "Bring the dorg back here, sir! Well no, that ain't likely. How do I know what might happen? Don't you make no mistake about me, sir. I'm a respectable tradesman, and that's my card, `D. Wragg, Nat'ralist, Dealer in Br'ish and Furren Birds, and setrer, 12 Brownjohn Street, Decadia.'" As he spoke he held out a dirty, glazed, worn-edged card to the last speaker, who motioned to him to place it upon the table, which was done with a great deal of jerking and twitching, Mr D. Wragg pushing the piece of pasteboard well into view, and then, apparently not satisfied, standing it up on edge against a book before continuing--