Thus, he could wait his time. They would come together later. An opportunity would certainly present itself. The first links in a curious chain had already caught; soon the chain would tighten, pull as though by chance, and bring their lives into one and the same circle. Wondering in particular for what kind of a companion the second cover was laid, Henriot felt certain that their eventual coming together was inevitable. He possessed this kind of divination from first impressions, and not uncommonly it proved correct. Following instinct, therefore, he took no steps towards acquaintance, and for several days, owing to the fact that he dined frequently with his hosts, he saw nothing more of Richard Vance, the business man from Birmingham. Then, one night, coming home late from his friend's house, he had passed along the great corridor, and was actually a step or so into his bedroom, when a drawling voice sounded close behind him. It was an unpleasant sound. It was very near him too-- "I beg your pardon, but have you, by any chance, such a thing as a compass you could lend me?" The voice was so close that he started. Vance stood within touching distance of his body. He had stolen up like a ghostly Arab, must have followed him, too, some little distance, for further down the passage the light of an open door--he had passed it on his way--showed where he came from. "Eh? I beg your pardon? A--compass, did you say?" He felt disconcerted for a moment. How short the man was, now that he saw him standing. Broad and powerful too. Henriot looked down upon his thick head of hair. The personality and voice repelled him. Possibly his face, caught unawares, betrayed this. "Forgive my startling you," said the other apologetically, while the softer expression danced in for a moment and disorganised the rigid set of the face. "The soft carpet, you know. I'm afraid you didn't hear my tread. I wondered"--he smiled again slightly at the nature of the request--"if--by any chance--you had a pocket compass you could lend me?" "Ah, a compass, yes! Please don't apologise. I believe I have one--if you'll wait a moment. Come in, won't you? I'll have a look." The other thanked him but waited in the passage. Henriot, it so happened, had a compass, and produced it after a moment's search. "I am greatly indebted to you--if I may return it in the morning. You will forgive my disturbing you at such an hour. My own is broken, and I wanted--er--to find the true north."