test notion as to what manner of man Caspar Brooke might turn
out to be.

CHAPTER IV.

THE MANNER OF MAN.

On the day preceding Lesley Brooke's arrival in London, a tall,
broad-shouldered man was walking along Southampton Row. He was a big
man--a man whom people turned to look at--a distinctly noticeable man.
He was considerably taller and broader than the average of his fellows:
he was wide-chested and muscular, though without any inclination to
stoutness; and he had a handsome, sunburned face, with a short brown
beard and deep-set, dark-brown eyes. His hair was not cut quite to the
conventional shortness, perhaps: there was a lock that would fall in an
unruly manner across the broad brow with an obstinacy no hairdresser
could subvert. But, in all other respects, he was very much as other
men: he dressed well, if rather carelessly, and presented to the world a
somewhat imposing personality. He did not wear gloves, and he had no
flower at his button-hole; but the respectability of his silk hat and
well-made coat was unimpeachable, and he had all the air of easy command
which is so characteristic of the well-bred Englishman. The slight
roughness about him was as inseparable from his build and his character
as it is to the best-groomed and best-bred staghound or mastiff of the
highest race.

Southampton Row, as is well known, leads into Russell Square. In fact
the straight line of the Row merges imperceptibly into one side of the
Square, whence it continues under the name of Woburn Place, the East
side of Tavistock Square, Upper Woburn Place, and Euston Square, losing
itself at last in the Northern wilderness of the crowded Euston Road. It
was at a house which he passed in his straight course from Holburn
towards St. Pancras that this very tall and strong-looking gentleman
stopped, at about five o'clock on a September afternoon.

He stood on the steps for a moment, and looked up and down the house
doubtfully, as if seeking for signs of life from within. A great many
people were still out of town, and he was uncertain whether the
occupants of this house were at home or not. The place had evidently
been in the hands of painters and cleaners since he saw it last: the
stone-work was scrupulously white, the wood-work was painted a delicate
green. The visitor lifted his well-defined eyebrows at the lightness of
the color, as he turned to the door and rang the bell. It was easy to
see that he was an observant man,