This man does not appear at all put out by Mr. Arden's observant presence, nor even conscious of it. A place becomes vacant at the table, and he takes it, and stakes some money, and goes on, and wins and loses, and at last yawns and turns away, and walks slowly round to the door near which David Arden is standing. Is not this the very man whom he saw for a moment on board the steamer, as he crossed? As he passes a jet of gas, the light falls upon his face at an angle that brings out lines that seem familiar to the Englishman, and for the moment determines his doubts. David Arden, with his eyes fixed upon him, says, as he was about to pass him,-- "How d'ye do, Mr. Longcluse?" The gentleman stops, smiles, and shrugs. "Pardon, Monsieur," he says in French, "I do not speak English or German." The quality of the voice that spoke these words was, he thought, different from Mr. Longcluse's--less tone, less depth, and more nasal. The gentleman pauses and smiles with his head inclined, evidently expecting to be addressed in French. "I believe I have made a mistake, Sir," hesitates Mr. Arden. The gentleman inclines his head lower, smiles, and waits patiently for a second or two. Mr. Arden, a little embarrassed, says,-- "I thought, Monsieur, I had met you before in England." "I have never been in England, Monsieur," says the patient and polite Frenchman, in his own language. "I cannot have had the honour, therefore, of meeting Monsieur _there_." He pauses politely. "Then I have only to make an apology. I beg your--I beg--but surely--I think--by Jove!" he breaks into English, "I can't be mistaken--you _are_ Mr. Longcluse." The tall gentleman looks so unaffectedly puzzled, and so politely good-natured, as he resumes, in the tones which seem perfectly natural, and yet one note in which David Arden fails to recognise, and says,-- "Monsieur must not trouble himself of having made a mistake: my name is St. Ange." "I believe I _have_ made a mistake, Monsieur--pray excuse me." The gentleman bows very ceremoniously, and Monsieur St. Ange walks slowly out, and takes a glass of curaçoa in the outer room. As he is paying the _garçon_, Mr. Arden again appears, once more in a state of uncertainty, and again leaning to the belief that this person is indeed the Mr. Longcluse who at present entirely possesses his imagination.