"Well," drawled Bawdsey, combing his fingers through his ruddy locks, "you might put it that way if you like. A fortnight ago I should not have minded whether you thought me impertinent or not. But now that you saved my life I don't mind telling you that I wish to gain and retain your good opinion." "Why?" asked George, more and more puzzled. "Because I'm that rare animal--a grateful man. You have had a bad time all your life, Mr. Brendon, but now you shall have a good one, and I am the man who is going to help you right along." George looked at him helplessly. He found it difficult to understand what all this meant. "Of course I know, from what Lola said, that you are a private inquiry agent," he remarked with hesitation. "Vidocq & Co.," said Bawdsey, briskly, "23 Augusta Street, Strand. That's me Mr. Brendon, but you needn't mention it in this shanty." "Are you an American, Mr. Bawdsey?" "I am anything that suits. I can talk all languages, and try to tell the truth in every one. And the best day's work you ever did for yourself, Mr. Brendon, was in dragging me from under the feet of that horse. Yes, sir, I'm in line with you forever." "This is all amusing, but a trifle confusing," said Brendon, feeling that he must get to the bottom of this chatter. "Will you answer a few questions, Mr. Bawdsey?" "Yes. Fire ahead. Wait! Will you take whisky?" "No, thanks. Yes, I'll take a cigar." "Henry Clay," said Bawdsey, passing along a box; "and the questions?" "You are a private inquiry agent?" asked George, when the cigar was well alight and Bawdsey had subsided into a chair. "That's so. Vidocq & Company--an attractive title, I guess." "And you were employed by Lola to watch me?" "I was. Love will do anything for the object of its affections." "Humph! there are different ways of looking at that. But you were also engaged by Lord Derrington to watch me?" Bawdsey did not display the least surprise. "That's very creditable to your observation, Mr. Brendon. It's true." "How did Lord Derrington find out that I was passing under the name of George Brendon?" "Well, sir, if you will shove advertisements into the paper asking about the celebration of the marriage of Percy Vane and Miss Rosina Lockwood you must expect to be dropped upon." "Oh, that was the way you found out!" "That was the way," nodded Bawdsey. "You had the answers----" "I had no answers," said Brendon, quickly. "I am quite sure of that," replied the detective, coolly. "We should have heard of you in a court of law had you been successful. But what I mean to say is that you asked for the answers to be sent to G. B., Pembroke Square, Kensington. Derrington spotted that, and seeing that the marriage referred to was that of his son to----" George waved his hand impatiently. "I see! I see! He hired you, and you looked me up." "Quite so. I have had you under observation for the last six months." "Confound it," cried Brendon, uncomfortably, "and I never knew."