"Of course I will meet him," Rathbone answered. "I shall be proud to meet a man like that. Any time you like." "Well, I don't want to press things, Rathbone; but, personally, I should say there was no time like the present. We are sure to find Gouldesbrough in to-night after dinner. Suppose we walk up to Regent's Park and call on him. I know you will be received in the kindest way, in a way you never suspected before we talked the matter over." "We'll do it," Rathbone answered, "and I shall leave his house to-night feeling a great burden has been removed from me." Charliewood made no answer to this last remark but merely pushed the champagne-bottle over to his guest. * * * * * An hour afterwards the two men, both with the astrachan coats which brought them so curiously together turned up about their ears, were walking briskly towards Oxford Street. The fog was very heavy and few people were about, though Charliewood said he knew exactly how to find the way. "You needn't worry," he said, "we'll go up Portland Place, and I can find Sir William's house without the least trouble. In fact, I think it would be a mistake to take a hansom on a night like this. The roads are horribly greasy. You can't see the lights of any vehicle a few yards ahead, and we're just as likely to be run into as not. Of course, if you'd rather ride----" "Not a bit," Rathbone answered, "exercise will do me good, and I shall feel calmer and more prepared for the interview. I'm not a sybarite like you are, and after a dinner like you've given me I should not be nearly in such good form unless I did have a walk." "Right oh!" Charliewood replied; "then come along. We will walk fast to keep warm." They went on, neither talking much, because of the thick fog that stung the nostrils and the eyes and poured down the throat when the mouth was opened. In about three-quarters of an hour they had passed up Portland Place, turned to the left and were drawing near the house they sought. "It's not very far now," Charliewood said. He shook as he said so, and his voice had a very muffled sound. "Don't you talk, old fellow," Rathbone answered. "I can see you're cold, and this fog plays the deuce with the lungs. Do keep quiet; there's no need to say anything. I'll follow where you lead." They stood at last before the little door in the high wall of Sir William Gouldesbrough's house. In the distance the faint rumble of London came to their ears, but there was not a soul about. Nobody saw them as Charliewood opened the door with a pass-key, explaining to Rathbone that Sir William had given him the key in order to save the servants coming through the garden. "I'm always in and out of the house," he explained, still with the cold and fog in his voice. They opened the door, and it clicked behind them. Rathbone brushed against some laurel bushes.