"That is it. He struck me with a stick. He would not part with it for anything. It was given him by some Indian fakir, and it is said that while he carries it he is proof against attack." "Who says so?" Wolfenden inquired. "Never mind," said Felix. "It's enough that it is said." He relapsed into silence, and when he next spoke his manner was different. His excited vehemence had gone and there was nothing in his voice or demeanour inconsistent with normal sanity. Yet his words were no less charged with deep intention. "I do not know much about you, Lord Wolfenden," he said; "but I beg you to take the advice I am offering you. No one ever gave you better in your life. Avoid that man as you would avoid the plague. Go away before he looks you up to thank you for what you did. Go abroad, anywhere; the farther the better; and stay away for ever, if that is the only means of escaping his friendship or even his acquaintance." Lord Wolfenden shook his head. "I'm a very ordinary, matter of fact Englishman," he said, "leading a very ordinary, matter of fact life, and you must forgive me if I consider such a sweeping condemnation a little extravagant and fantastic. I have no particular enemies on my conscience, I am implicated in no conspiracy, and I am, in short, an individual of very little importance. Consequently I have nothing to fear from anybody and am afraid of nobody. This man cannot have anything to gain by injuring me. I believe you said you did not know the lady?" "The lady?" Felix repeated. "No, I do not know her, nor anything of her beyond the fact that she is with him for the time being. That is quite sufficient for me." Wolfenden got up. "Thanks," he said lazily. "I only asked you for facts. As for your suggestion--you will be well advised not to repeat it." "Oh!" exclaimed Felix, scornfully, "how blind and pig-headed you English people are! I have told you something of the man's reputation. What can hers be, do you suppose, if she will sup alone with him in a public restaurant?" "Good-night," said Wolfenden. "I will not listen to another word." Felix rose to his feet and laid his hand upon Lord Wolfenden's arm. "Lord Wolfenden," he said, "you are a very decent fellow: do try to believe that I am only speaking for your good. That girl----" Wolfenden shook him off. "If you allude to that young lady, either directly or indirectly," he said very calmly, "I shall throw you into the river." Felix shrugged his shoulders. "At least remember that I warned you," was all he ventured to say as Lord Wolfenden strode away. * * * * * Leaving the embankment Wolfenden walked quickly to Half Moon Street, where his chambers were. His servant let him in and took his coat. There was an anxious expression upon his usually passive face and he appeared to be rather at a loss for words in which to communicate his news. At last he got it out, accompanying the question with a nervous and deprecating cough.