His manner changed at once. "Are you from Oxford?" he asked. "Yes." "And you call on my afternoon off, that's most unlucky." He talked all right but his legs were uncertain, and when he stood up he found the mantelpiece useful. "Rheumatism, I'm a martyr to it," he said. "Very painful," I remarked, and got off my soda-water case. "Don't get up, it's passing off. If you're from Oxford, I must put on a coat and collar. Would you oblige me with your name?" "Godfrey Marten," I said. "Colonel Marten's son? Here, sit in this chair. I must put on two coats," and he made a most gurgly kind of sound which must have meant that he was amused with himself. Then he looked towards the door as if wondering whether he could reach it. "Please don't put on anything for me," I said, and I took his arm and directed him back to the chair. "Your father saved my life, and you're the very image of him. It's enough to upset an old man like me," and without the slightest warning tears began to roll down his checks. "Cheer up," I said, for I felt very uncomfortable. "And you'll go and tell him that you found me--that you called on my afternoon off." "I shan't," I said stoutly. "And you've been a good friend to Hubert." "That's nothing; I want his address in West Ham." "Don't say it's nothing, no deed of kindness was yet cast away in this world of sin," and two more tears began to roll. "Stop that kind of thing, I simply can't stand it. Pull yourself together," I said, "and if you will give me his address I'll go." "Don't go, you must stay and have a cup of tea. The Colonel, I hope he's well?" "He's all right; you write to him still, don't you?" "No, I never write to him." "Hubert told me you did." "He made a mistake. The Colonel and I quarrelled, but you must never say a word. I was treated badly, but I don't bear anybody any grudge, leastways not to the man who saved my life. Hasn't he ever told you about it?" "Never." "That's like him, but he will never want to hear my name again; I should take it as a favour if you will not mention it." "Why shouldn't I?" I asked. He stood up again and was ever so much better. "I was misunderstood," he said. "How did you ever know anything about me?" "The gymnasium instructor at Cliborough is my brother-in-law. He was in the old regiment. He told me about you." "He taught me fencing," I said, and added, "But why did you want Hubert to see me?" "You do want to get to the bottom of things; would you like some tea?" I did not want any tea, but I asked if I might open the window, and then I took my case across the room and got some air. "It's right for every man to have one ambition," he said, in the way which made me loathe him. "What's yours?" I asked promptly. "That Hubert shall be a gentleman, that's why I wanted him to know you, only he's so shy----" "Good gracious!" was all I could exclaim, and it did not express my astonishment in the least.