o had produced
the brandy the evening before. He was in undress uniform--a holland or
white-jean jacket, and a red woollen comforter. He had lost his voice,
or most of it, and croaked; and his cold had got worse in the night.
He was shedding tears copiously, and wiping them on a cruet-stand he
carried in one hand. The other was engaged by an empty coal-scuttle
with a pair of slippers in it, inexplicably.

"There's a start down there. Party over the pier-end! Dr. Maccoll
he's been 'phoned for."

"Party from this hotel?"

"Couldn't say. Porcibly. No partic'lars to identify, so far."

"They're not bringing him here?"

"Couldn't say, miss; but I should say they wasn't myself."

"If you know you can say. Who told you, and what did _he_ say? Make
yourself understood."

"Dr. Maccoll he's been 'phoned for. You can inquire and see if I
ain't right. Beyond that I take no responsibility."

The Lady of the Bureau came out; moved, no doubt, by an image of
a drowned man whose resources would not meet the credits she might
be compelled to give him. She came out to the front through the
swing-door, looked up and down the road, and seemed to go back happier.
Dr. Conrad's curiosity was roused, and he started at once for the
beach, but absolutely without a trace of personal misgiving. No doubt
the tendency we all have to impute public mishaps to a special class
of people outside our own circle had something to do with this. As he
passed down an alley behind some cottages--a short way to the pier--he
was aware of a boy telling a tale in a terrified voice to a man and an
elderly woman. It was the man with the striped shirt, and the boy was
young Benjamin. He had passed on a few paces when the man called to
him, and came running after him, followed by the woman and boy.

"I ask your pardon, sir--I ask your pardon...." What he has to say
will not allow him to speak, and his words will not come. He turns for
help to his companion. "_You_ tell him, Martha woman," he says, and
gives in.

"My master thinks, sir, you may find something on the beach...."

"Something on the beach!..." Fear is coming into Dr. Conrad's face
and voice.

"Find something has happened on the beach. But they've got him
out...."

"Got him out! Got whom out? Speak up, for Heaven's sake!"

"It might be the gentleman you know, sir, and...." But the speaker's
husband, having left the telling to his wife, unfairly strikes in
here, to have the satisfaction of l