Billy, however, did not agree to this, and merely observed ‘Pickles,’ in a disbelieving manner. Mr Jarper felt rather overcome by this praise, and blushed in a modest way, but felt that he could not return the compliment with any degree of truth, as Slivers was not handsome, neither was he all there. He, however, decided that Slivers was an unusually discerning person, and worthy to talk to, so prepared to make himself agreeable. Slivers, who had thus gained the goodwill of the young man by flattery, plunged into the subject of Villiers’ disappearance. ‘I wonder what’s become of Villiers,’ he said, artfully pushing the whisky bottle toward Barty. ‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ said Barty in a languid, used-up sort of voice, pouring himself out some more whisky, ‘I haven’t seen him since last Monday week.’ ‘Where did you leave him on that night?’ asked Slivers. ‘At the corner of Sturt and Lydiard Streets.’ ‘Early in the morning, I suppose?’ ‘Yes--pretty early--about two o’clock, I think.’ ‘And you never saw him after that?’ ‘Not a sight of him,’ replied Barty; ‘but, I say, why all this thusness?’ ‘I’ll tell you after you have answered my questions,’ retorted Slivers, rudely, ‘but I’m not asking out of curiosity--its business.’ Barty thought that Slivers was very peculiar, but determined to humour him, and to take his leave as early as possible. ‘Well, go on,’ he said, drinking his whisky, ‘I’ll answer.’ ‘Who else was with you and Villiers on that night?’ asked Slivers in a magisterial kind of manner. ‘A French fellow called Vandeloup.’ ‘Vandeloup!’ echoed Slivers in surprise; ‘oh, indeed! what the devil was he doing?’ ‘Enjoying himself,’ replied Barty, coolly; ‘he came into the theatre and Villiers introduced him to me; then Mr Wopples asked us all to supper.’ ‘You went, of course?’ ‘Rather, old chap; what do you take us for?’--this from Barty, with a knowing wink. ‘What time did Vandeloup leave?’ asked Slivers, not paying any attention to Barty’s pantomime. ‘About twenty minutes to twelve.’ ‘Oh! I suppose that was because he had to drive out to the Pactolus?’ ‘Not such a fool, dear boy; he stayed all night in town.’ ‘Oh!’ ejaculated Slivers, in an excited manner, drumming on the table with his fingers, ‘where did he stay?’ ‘At the Wattle Tree Hotel.’ Slivers mentally made a note of this, and determined to go there and find out at what time Vandeloup had come home on the night in question, for this suspicious old man had now got it into his head that Vandeloup was in some way responsible for Villiers’ disappearance. ‘Where did Villiers say he was going when he left you?’ he asked. ‘Straight home.’ ‘Humph! Well, he didn’t go home at all.’ ‘Didn’t he?’ echoed Barty, in some astonishment. ‘Then what’s become of him? Men don’t disappear in this mysterious way without some reason.’ ‘Ah, but there is a reason,’ replied Slivers, bending across the table and clawing at the papers thereon with the lean fingers of his one hand.