"No. Moreover, the packet is sealed. I do not see, on second thoughts, what harm I can do you--now that it is out of your father's hands--by keeping it until to-morrow, when I will return it to your brother, from whom it came." "He will not be in London," he answered doggedly. He stepped between me and the door with looks which I did not like. At the same time I felt that some allowance must be made for a man treated in this way. "I am sorry," I said, "but I cannot do what you ask. I will do this, however. If you think the delay of importance, and will give me your brother's address in Liverpool, I will undertake to post the letters to him at once." He considered the offer, eying me the while with the same disfavor which he had exhibited in the drawing room. At last he said slowly, "If you will do that?" "I will," I repeated. "I will do it immediately." He gave me the direction--"George Ritherdon, at the London and Northwestern Hotel, Liverpool"--and in return I gave him my own name and address. Then I parted from him, with a civil good-night on either side--and little liking, I fancy--the clocks striking midnight, and the servants coming in as I passed out into the cool darkness of the square. Late as it was I went straight to my club, determined that, as I had assumed the responsibility, there should be no laches on my part. There I placed the packet, together with a short note explaining how it came into my possession, in an outer envelope, and dropped the whole, duly directed and stamped, into the nearest pillar box. I could not register it at that hour, and rather than wait until next morning, I omitted the precaution; merely requesting Mr. Ritherdon to acknowledge its receipt. Well, some days passed; during which it may be imagined that I thought no little about my odd experience. It was the story of the Lady and the Tiger over again. I had the choice of two alternatives at least. I might either believe the young fellow's story, which certainly had the merit of explaining in a fairly probable manner an occurrence of so odd a character as not to lend itself freely to explanation. Or I might disbelieve his story, plausible in its very strangeness as it was, in favor of my own vague suspicions. Which was I to do? Well, I set out by preferring the former alternative. This, notwithstanding that I had to some extent committed myself against it by withholding the papers. But with each day that passed without bringing me an answer from Liverpool, I leaned more and more to the other side. I began to pin my faith to the Tiger, adding each morning a point to the odds in the animal's favor. So it went on until ten days had passed.