rees and the skies? After all, it is like a drama, for I'll
be blessed if I see any sense in it all."

"I see you are all more or less attracted by my personal appearance," he
says, after Aunt Honor has given up the floor. "Now that I think of it,
it's _not_ just the thing for a drawing room."

Mr. Neil Bathurst, or his present presentment, is a medium sized man,
attired in garments that have once been elegant, but are now frayed,
threadbare, travel worn; his feet are encased in boots that have once
been jaunty; his hat is as rakish as it is battered; his face wears that
dull reddish hue, common to fair complexions that have been long exposed
to sun and wind; his hair and beard, somewhat matted, somewhat
disordered, may have borne some tinge of auburn or yellow once, but they
too, have, unmistakeably, battled with the sun, and have come out a
light hay color. As Constance looks at him, she, mentally, confesses
that he _is_ certainly the oddest figure she has ever entertained in her
drawing room.

"I have been wondering just what grade of humanity you are supposing
yourself to represent just now," says Doctor Heath, eyeing him
quizzically.

"What!" with mock humility, "am I thus a failure? Miss Wardour, look at
me well; do you not recognize my social rank?"

Constance surveys him afresh, with critical eye.

"I think," she says, "I recognize the gentleman tramp; one of the sort
who asks to wash his face before eating, and to chop your wood after."

"Right!" says the detective. "My self-respect returns; I am _not_ a
bungler. In the morning I shall be on the ground, to wash my face, and
chop your wood; which reminds me, your servants, they must not see me
here. I must depart as I came, and soon."

"And your search," asks Constance, "when will that begin?"

"My search?" hesitating oddly. "Oh, that has already commenced."

"What a curious thing it is that Mr. Lamotte should have secured you, of
all men," breaks in Aunt Honor. "I did not think it possible Mr.
Lamotte--"

"Pardon me, all of you," breaks in the gentleman tramp. "Something must
be set right; I will come to the point at once. Who _is_ Mr. Lamotte?
_What_ is Mr. Lamotte? I have never seen him; never heard of him."

"What!" from Constance.

"Oh!" from Mrs. Aliston.

"But--" from Doctor Heath.

"Let me finish," he interpolates. "Let me tell you just how I happened
to drop down among you to-night. Recently we have had in the city
several robberies s