His thoughts reverted to Theresa, and he regretted that he had left her without a word about his intentions. He jumped up, said “Good-morning” to the buxom maid, and left the house. He strode rapidly through the town, unaware that he was being followed by a spare little man, whose face betrayed emotions of the most violent and complex kind. Once out of the town, Sir Harold’s long legs took quicker and longer strides, and the little man began to run. He panted painfully for a little while, and then cried: “Master! Master!” Sir Harold swung round, and eyed the man wonderingly. “Well?” he demanded. “I am afraid that you have made some mistake, my good fellow.” “Don’t you know me, Sir Harold?” cried the man. “I’m Stimson, your valet. You left me to go to London, and I followed the next day with all the luggage, and have never seen you since.” “I really don’t know you, Stimson; I am very sorry, and I wish that you had not met me.” “Oh, Sir Harold, I thought that you were dead. I never did believe what they said about your running away. I knew you too well.” “That is what they say, is it?” Sir Harold said. “Well, I am glad of it. I have no desire to undeceive them, whoever ‘they’ may be.” Stimson stood watching anxiously every expression of his master’s face. “I will tell you that which very few people know, Stimson--I fell from the train at Tenterden on that fatal day, and had ten years of my life utterly obliterated. That is why I do not recognize you. I am told that I shall soon be all right again, and there is only one other of my old friends in the secret--Colonel Greyson.” “Oh, master, it is good to hear your voice again!” was the valet’s hysterical rejoinder. “You want me again, don’t you, Sir Harold? You said that I should always remain with you.” “I am ready to keep my word, Stimson, because I am really in need of a valet. I am to be married soon, and intend going abroad immediately, to stay until my memory is fully restored.” The valet stared at him doubtfully, and blankly said: “Married, Sir Harold?” “Yes, to the daughter of the man who saved my intellect, if not my life. I never want you to refer to the past, Stimson. That is over and done with--at least, that portion which brought me so much sorrow. I understand that I was infatuated with a cold-hearted, beautiful flirt, who is engaged to some other fellow already. There, that is done with. You may accompany me now, but I rely upon your absolute secrecy. I am not staying far from here, and you will be very useful, for my wardrobe is limited to what I have on my back!” “The luggage is still at the London hotel, Sir Harold, and I waited there for you until I was penniless. Shall I fetch it away?” the valet asked. “We will talk about that later, as I wish to arouse no suspicion. To everybody, for a time, I am to be plain Mr. Harold.” “Yes, master; I shall not forget,” the half-hysterical Stimson replied.