y.

He answered, hoarsely, something--what?--rode off. With color flaming
high, the girl looked after him until Lord Ronsdale's horse, clattering
near, caused her to turn quickly.

* * * * *

CHAPTER VI

A CONFERENCE

The book-worms' row, hardly a street, more a short-cut passage between
two important thoroughfares, had through the course of many years
exercised a subtle fascination for pedant, pedagogue or itinerant
litterateur. At one end of the way was rush and bustle; at the other,
more rush and bustle; here might be found the comparative hush of the
tiny stream that for a short interval has left the parent current. Dusty
and musty shops looked out on either side, and within on shelves, or
without on stands, unexpected bargains lay carelessly about, rare
Horaces or Ovids, Greek tragedies, ponderous volumes of the golden age
of the English poets and philosophers. Truth nestled in dark corners;
knowledge lay hidden in frayed covers and beauty enshrined herself
behind cobwebs.

Not that the thoroughfare, in its entirety, was devoted to books; nor
that it housed no other people than bibliomaniacs or antiquarians!
Higher, above the little shops, small rooms, reached by rickety
stairways, offered quiet corners for divers and sundry gentlemen whose
occupations called for discreet and retired nooks.

In one of these places, described on the door as "a private,
confidential, inquiry office," sat, on the morning following John
Steele's ride in the park, a little man with ferret-like eyes at a dusty
desk near a dusty window. He did not seem to be very busy, was engaged
at the moment in drawing meaningless cabalistic signs on a piece of
paper, when a step in the hallway and a low tapping at the door caused
him to throw down his pen and straighten expectantly. A client,
perhaps!--a woman?--no, a man! With momentary surprise, he gazed on the
delicately chiseled features of his caller; a gentleman faultlessly
dressed and wearing a spring flower in his coat.

"Mr. Gillett?" The visitor's glance veiled an expression of
restlessness; his face, although mask-like, was tinted with a faint
flush.

The police agent at once rose. "The same, sir, at your service; I--but I
beg your pardon; unless I am mistaken--haven't we--"

"Yes; a number of years ago on the _Lord Nelson_," said the caller in a
hard matter-of-fact tone. "We were fellow passengers on her, until--"

"We became fellow occ