For one instant Vaughan stood inert and stupefied; the next he remembered himself, and bowed mechanically. His presentation to the Chesters was thus suddenly effected by his cousin, Lord Melthorpe, to whom he was indebted for many favours, and whom he could not afford to offend by any show of _brusquerie_. As soon as the necessary salutations were exchanged, however, he looked round vaguely, and in a sort of superstitious terror, for the man who had so surely prophesied this introduction. But El-Râmi was gone. Silently and without adieu he had departed, having seen his word fulfilled. II. “Who is the gentleman that has just left you?” asked Miss Chester, smiling prettily up into Vaughan’s eyes, as she accepted his proffered arm to lead her to her carriage,--“Such a distinguished-looking dreadful person!” Vaughan smiled at this description. “He is certainly rather singular in personal appearance,” he began, when his cousin, Lord Melthorpe, interrupted him. “You mean El-Râmi? It was El-Râmi, wasn’t it? Ah, I thought so. Why did he give us the slip, I wonder? I wish he had waited a minute--he is a most interesting fellow.” “But who is he?” persisted Miss Chester. She was now comfortably ensconced in her luxurious brougham, her mother beside her, and two men of “title” opposite to her--a position which exactly suited the aspirations of her soul. “How very tiresome you both are! You don’t explain him a bit; you only say he is ‘interesting,’ and of course one can see that; people with such white hair and such black eyes are always interesting, don’t you think so?” “Well, I don’t see why they should be,” said Lord Melthorpe dubiously. “Now, just think what horrible chaps Albinos are, and they have white hair and pink eyes----” “Oh, don’t drift off on the subject of Albinos, please!” pleaded Miss Chester, with a soft laugh. “If you do, I shall never know anything about this particular person--El-Râmi, did you say? Isn’t it a very odd name? Eastern, of course?” “Oh yes! he is a pure Oriental thoroughbred,” replied Lord Melthorpe, who took the burden of the conversation upon himself, while he inwardly wondered why his cousin Vaughan was in such an evidently taciturn mood. “That is, I mean, he is an Oriental of the very old stock, not one of the modern Indian mixtures of vice and knavery. But when he came from the East, and why he came from the East, I don’t suppose any one could tell you. I have only met him two or three times in society, and on those occasions he managed to perplex and fascinate a good many people. My wife, for instance, thinks him quite a marvellous man; she always asks him to her parties, but he hardly ever comes. His name in full is El-Râmi-Zarânos, though I believe he is best known as El-Râmi simply.” “And what is he?” asked Miss Chester. “An artist?--A literary celebrity?”