fingers spread out almost as if he wished to hide his face, turned his back quickly, seized his hat, threw half-a-crown to the waiter and scuttled from the establishment. [Illustration: _He scuttled from the Establishment._] I was considerably surprised at his abrupt departure, as if I had brought some infection with me. The momentary glimpse I had caught of his face had convinced me I had never seen it before, that it had no place in the photograph album of my brain, though now it would be fixed there forever. The nose hooked itself on to my memory at once. It must be that he had mistaken me for somebody else, somebody whom he had reason to fear. Perhaps he was a criminal and imagined me a detective. I called the proprietor and inquired of him in French who the man was and what was the matter with him. But he shook his head and answered: "That man there puzzles me. There is a mystery behind." "Why, has he done anything strange before to-day?" "No, not precisely." "How then?" "I will tell you. He comes here once a year." "Once a year?" I repeated. "No more. This has been going on for twelve years." "What are you telling me there?" I murmured. "It is true." "But how have you remembered him from year to year?" "I was struck by his face and his air the very first time. He seemed anxious, ill at ease, worried. He left his chop half eaten." "Ha!" I murmured. "Also he looks different from most of my clients. They are not of that type. Of course I forget him immediately--it is not my affair. But when he comes the second time I recall him on the instant, though a year has passed. Again he looks perturbed, restless. I say to myself: 'Aha, thou art not a happy man, there is something which preys on thy mind. However, thy money is good and to the devil with the rest.' So it goes on. After three or four visits I commence to look out for him, and I discover that it is only once a year he does me the honor to arrive. There are twelve years that I know him--I have seen him twelve times." "And he has always this nervous air?" "Not always. That varies. Sometimes he appears calm, sometimes even happy." "Perhaps it is your fare," I said slily. "Ah, no, monsieur, that does not vary. It is always of the first excellence." "Does he always come on the same date?" "No, monsieur. There is the puzzle. It is never exactly a year between his visits--sometimes it is more, sometimes it is less." "There is, indeed, the puzzle," I agreed. "If it were always the same date, it would be a clue. Ah, an idea! He comes not always on the same date of the month, but he comes, perhaps, on the same day of the week, eh?" Again the proprietor dashed me back into the depths of perplexity.