His heart gave a jump of relief when he saw that the Dragon was still there, standing quite unconcernedly in the main hall of the hotel, his son and daughter-in-law quietly beside him. Harkness's first thought at view of him was that Dunbar's story was built up of imagination. The little man was standing, a soft felt hat tilted a little on one side of his head, a dark thin overcoat covering his evening clothes. Because his hair was covered and his face shaded there was nothing about him that was at all startling or highly coloured. He simply looked to be a nice plump little English gentleman who was waiting, a smile on his face, for his car to arrive that it might take him home. Nor was there anything in the least exceptional in the pair that stood beside him, the man, thin, dark, immobile; the girl, her head a little bent, a soft white wrap over her shoulders, her hands at her side. At once it flashed into Harkness's brain that all the scene with Dunbar had been imagined; there had been no "Feathered Duck," no melodramatic story of madness and tyranny, no twopence-coloured plan for a midnight rescue. He was about to drive a mile or two to see some beautiful things, to smoke a good cigar and drink some admirable brandy--then to retire and sleep the sleep of the divinely worthy. The girl raised her head. Her eyes met his, and he knew that whatever else was true or false his love for her was certain and resolved. Crispin looked extremely pleased to see him. He came towards him smiling and holding out his hand: "Why, Mr. Harkness, this is splendid," he said. "We were just wondering what we should do about you. We were giving you up." Harkness was conscious that, in spite of his attempts outside, he was still in considerable disorder. He fingered his collar nervously: "I'm sorry," he began. "But I'm so glad that I've caught you after all." "Were the revels in the town amusing?" Crispin asked. Harkness had a sudden impulse, whence he knew not, to make the younger Crispin speak. "Why didn't you come down?" he asked. "You'd have enjoyed it." The man was astonished at being addressed. He sprang into sudden life like any Jack-in-the-Box: "Oh I," he said, "I had to go with my father, you know--yes, to see some old friends." He was looking at Harkness as though he were wondering why, exactly, he had done that. "Are you still willing to come and see my few things?" Crispin asked. "It's only half-an-hour's drive and my car will bring you back." "I shall be delighted to come," Harkness said quickly. "I would have been deeply disappointed if I had missed you. But you must not think of sending me back. I shall enjoy the walk greatly." "Why, of course not!" said Crispin. "Walk back at that time of the night! I couldn't allow it for a moment."