“By all means,” I said, turning in my chair to survey the new-comer. I saw the face for an instant. The man wore a sou'wester, and he had drawn his thick, rough coat up as though he would hide his head under the collar. Cheek and chin I could see were covered by a thick blond beard. His movements were apparently clumsy, but his figure was lithe and sinuous. And his eyes! Once seen they never could be forgotten. At their glance, beard and sou'wester dropped away before my fancy, and I saw in my inner vision the man of the serpent glance who had chilled my spirit when I had first put foot in the city. It flashed on me in an instant that this was the same man disguised, who had ventured into the midst of his enemies to see what he might learn of their plans. As I watched Dicky advance and greet the new-comer with apparent inquiry, a low harsh voice behind gave me a start of surprise. “This is your wine, I think,”--and a lean, wrinkled arm passed over my shoulder, and a wrinkled face came near my own. I turned quickly. It was Mother Borton, leering at me with no apparent interest but in her errand. “What are you doing here?” asked the crone in a voice still lower. “You're not the one they take you to be, but you're none the less in danger. What are you doing with his looks, and in this place? Look out for that man you're with, and the other. Yes, sir,” her voice rose. “A small bottle of the white; in a minute, sir.” I understood her as Dicky and the new-comer came to the table and took seats opposite. I commanded my face to give no sign of suspicion, but the warning put me on the alert. I had come on the supposition that I was to meet the band to which Henry Wilton belonged. Instead of being among friends, however, it seemed now that I was among enemies. “It's all right,” said Dicky carelessly. “He's been sent.” “That's lucky,” said I with equal unconcern. “We may need an extra hand before morning.” The new-comer could not repress a triumphant flash in the serpent eyes. “I'm the one for your job,” he said hoarsely, his face as impassive as a stone wall. “What do you know about the job?” I asked suspiciously. “Only what I've been told,” he answered. “And that is--” “That it's a job for silence, secrecy, and--” “Spondulicks,” said Dicky with a laugh, as the other hesitated for a word. “Just so,” said the man. “And what else?” I continued, pressing him firmly. “Well,” he admitted hoarsely, “I learned as how there was to be a change of place to-night, and I might be needed.” I looked at him inquiringly. Perhaps I was on the threshold of knowledge of this cursed business from the mouth of the enemy. “I heard as how the boy was to be put in a safer place,” he said, wagging his head with affected gravity. Some imp put it into my brain to try him with an unexpected bit of news. “Oh,” I said coolly, “that's all attended to. The change was made yesterday.”