He, too had come to Spider Court, and expressed profound grief at Jack's disappearance, and had gone away after wringing Leonard's hand sympathetically. Leonard sat thinking over this far more than was good to the work he had in hand, when he heard the door open, and half starting, said absently: "Nothing more wanted tonight, Mrs. Brown." But a step, certainly not Mrs. Brown's, crossed the room, and a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder, and looking up, he saw Jack's face above him. "Jack!" he exclaimed, clutching him as if he expected to see him disappear again. "It is you, really you? Great Heaven!" There was reason for the exclamation; for though it was Jack, he was so altered as to have rendered the description of him in the advertisements quite useless. Thin, pale, careworn, it was no more the old Jack than the living skeleton is Daniel Lambert. "Great Heaven! Is it really you, Jack?" "Yes, it is I! what is left of me, Len. You--you are looking well, old man. And the old room; how cheery it seems." And he laughed--the shadow of the old laugh--even more pitiable than tears. "For Heaven's sake be quiet; don't speak just yet," said Len, with a husky voice. "Sit down. You've frightened me, Jack. Have you been ill?" "Slightly," said Jack, with a smile. "And where have you been? Tell me all about it--no, don't tell me anything yet." And he went to the cupboard, and brought out the whisky, and mixed a stiff glass. "Now, then, old man, where's the cigars? here--here's a light. Now then--no; take off your boots. I'll tell Mrs. Brown to air the bed and get your dressing-gown. And what about supper?" And with a suspicious moisture in his eyes, Len turned from the room. "Staunch as a woman, tender as a man." It was a wise saying, whoever wrote it. Jack sipped his whisky and water, and smoked his cigar, and pulled himself together, which was just what Len wanted to get him to do; and then Len came back. "Now then, old man, out with it. Where have you been?" "I've been to America," said Jack. "Don't ask me any particulars, Len; I wouldn't tell you much if you did. I've been nearly out of my mind half the time, and down with one of their charming fevers the remainder. You won't get enough information out of me to write even a magazine article, old man." And he smiled, with a faint attempt at badinage. "Great Heaven!" exclaimed Len, again; "and--and is that all?" "That's all it amounts to," said Jack, wearily. "You want to know how I came back, and why? Well, I can scarcely tell why. I got so sick of trying to get knocked on the head, and failing miserably, that I got disgusted with the country, weary of wandering about, and resolved that it would be better to come and give Levy Moss his revenge. He's still alive, I hope?" "And you got back?" said Len.