"I'm giving you a lot of trouble," my companion said apologetically. "It is really too bad, and you must think me very foolish to get separated from my friends like this. How it occurred I really don't know. They went out in front of me, and the crowd kept me from coming out of my seat. Then, when I got into the promenade I found they had vanished, as if by magic." "It's evident that the street is not well-known," I said, "for hansom-cab drivers are really encyclopaedias of London geography, having to pass an examination in it before being granted a driver's licence by the police. It must be somewhere far out in the suburbs." Then a thought suddenly occurred to me. "The only thing I can suggest," I continued, "is that you should walk round to my chambers in Charing Cross Road, for I have there a Directory which will no doubt give us some clue to the whereabouts of your friends." She paused, and looked at me rather strangely I thought. I had expected her to be eager to act as I suggested, but found her somewhat loth to accompany me. Yet, was this not natural? I was an utter stranger. Perhaps, too, she had seen some drama in the provinces where the villain invariably wears a starched shirt-front and smokes cigarettes, for it seemed as though she held me in fear. "You are very kind," she answered, "but I really think--" "No," I said, divining her thoughts. "It is impossible for you to wander the streets until morning. You must allow me to help you. Come." "I've been thinking it would be best, perhaps, for me to go to an hotel," she said. "As you wish," I replied. "But you must find out this unknown street either now or to-morrow morning, and if you take my advice you will lose no time in ascertaining where your friends really live, for they will be anxious about you." For a few moments she reflected, then exclaimed-- "Yes, you're right after all. I'm sure you are extremely kind." And together we crossed the Square and continued along Cranbourne Street to the colossal block of redbrick flats wherein my chambers were situated. CHAPTER TWO. THIS CRUCIFIX.