im, except some crackers,
and I had wasted enough time over him already. If I didn't get a hustle
on, I should be late for my appointment with Anne.

He clutched at the half-crown, and bent his trembling old body again,
invoking, as I opined, a string of blessings on my unworthy head.
Something slipped from among his garments and fell with a tinkle at my
feet. I stooped to pick it up and saw it was an oval piece of tin, in
shape and size like an old-fashioned miniature, containing a portrait.
He had evidently been wearing it round his neck, amulet fashion, for a
thin red cord dangled from it, that I had probably snapped in my haste.

He reached for it with a quick cry, but I held on to it, for I
recognized the face instantly.

It was a photograph of Anne Pendennis--badly printed, as if by an
amateur--but an excellent likeness.

Underneath were scrawled in red ink the initials "A. P." and two or
three words that I could not decipher, together with a curious
hieroglyphic, that looked like a tiny five-petalled flower, drawn and
filled in with the red ink.

How on earth did this forlorn old alien have Anne's portrait in his
possession?

He was cute enough to read my expression, for he clutched my arm, and,
pointing to the portrait, began speaking earnestly, not in the patois,
but in low Russian.

My Russian is poor enough, but his was execrable. Still, I gathered that
he knew "the gracious lady," and had come a long way in search of her.
There was something I could not grasp, some allusion to danger that
threatened Anne, for each time he used the word he pointed at the
portrait with agonized emphasis.

His excitement was so pitiable, and seemed so genuine, that I determined
to get right to the root of the mystery if possible.

I seized his arm, marched him into my flat, and sat him in a chair,
emptying the tin of crackers before him, and bidding him eat. He
started crunching the crackers with avidity, eyeing me furtively all the
time as I stood at the telephone.

I must let Anne know at once that I was detained.

I could not get on to the Cayley's number, of course. Things always
happen that way! Well, I would have to explain my conduct later.

But I failed to elicit much by the cross-examination to which I
subjected my man. For one thing, neither of us understood half that the
other said.

I told him I knew his "gracious lady;" and he grovelled on the floor,
clawing at my shoes with his skinny hands.

I