“Ready for what? There’s nothing to be done here.” Hyacinth stared. “Then why the deuce do you come?” “I daresay I shan’t come much more. It’s a place in which you’ve always seen too much.” “I wonder if I’ve seen too much in you,” Hyacinth risked, gazing at his friend. “Don’t say that—he’s going to introduce us to Hoffendahl!” Schinkel exclaimed, putting away his pipe in a receptacle almost as large as a fiddle-case. “Should you like to see the right man, Robinson, that is the real thing?” Muniment asked with the same rare grave sound. “The real thing?” Hyacinth looked from one of his companions to the other. “You’ve never seen it yet—though you think you have.” “And why haven’t you shown it me before?” “Because I had never seen you on the stump.” This was more lightly said. “Bother the stump! I was trusting you.” “Exactly so. That gave me time.” “Don’t come unless your mind’s made up, _mon petit_,” said Poupin. “Are you going now—and to see Hoffendahl? Is _he_ the right man?” Hyacinth cried. “Don’t shout it all over the place. He wants a perfect little gentleman, and if you’re not one—!” Muniment went on. “Is it true? Are we all going?” Hyacinth eagerly went on. “Yes, these two are in it. They’re not very wise, but they’re decent,” said Muniment, looking at Poupin and Schinkel. “Are _you_ the real thing, Muniment?” asked Hyacinth, catching this look. Muniment dropped his eyes on him. “Yes, you’re the lamb of sacrifice he wants. It’s at the other end of London. We must have a growler.” “Be calm, my child; _me voici_!” And Poupin led their young friend out. They all walked away from the “Sun and Moon,” and it was not for some five minutes that they encountered the four-wheeled cab which so deepened and dignified their purpose. After they were seated in it Hyacinth learned that the “right man” was in London but for three days, was liable to hurry away on the morrow, and was accustomed to receive visits at all kinds of queer hours. It was getting to be midnight; the drive seemed interminable to Hyacinth’s impatience and curiosity. He sat next Muniment, who passed a strong arm round him, holding him all the way as if for a tacit sign of indebtedness. This gave Hyacinth pleasure till he began to wonder if it mightn’t represent also the instinct to make sure of him as against possible weak afterthoughts. They all ended by sitting silent as the cab jogged along murky miles, and by the time it stopped our young man had wholly lost, in the drizzling gloom, a sense of their whereabouts. END OF VOL. I Printed by R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, Edinburgh.