mystery pieced itself together as if on purpose to
entertain me. Their speech was pitched in the key that may in English
air be called alien in spite of a few coincidences. The voices were
American, however, with a difference; and I had no hesitation in
assigning the softer and clearer sound to the pale thin gentleman, whom
I decidedly preferred to his comrade. The latter began to question him
about his voyage.

"Horrible, horrible! I was deadly sick from the hour we left New York."

"Well, you do look considerably reduced," said the second-comer.

"Reduced! I've been on the verge of the grave. I haven't slept six hours
for three weeks." This was said with great gravity.

"Well, I've made the voyage for the last time."

"The plague you have! You mean to locate here permanently?"

"Oh it won't be so very permanent!"

There was a pause; after which: "You're the same merry old boy, Searle.
Going to give up the ghost to-morrow, eh?"

"I almost wish I were."

"You're not so sweet on England then? I've heard people say at home that
you dress and talk and act like an Englishman. But I know these people
here and I know you. You're not one of this crowd, Clement Searle, not
you. You'll go under here, sir; you'll go under as sure as my name's
Simmons."

Following this I heard a sudden clatter as of the drop of a knife and
fork. "Well, you're a delicate sort of creature, if it IS your ugly
name! I've been wandering about all day in this accursed city, ready
to cry with homesickness and heartsickness and every possible sort of
sickness, and thinking, in the absence of anything better, of meeting
you here this evening and of your uttering some sound of cheer and
comfort and giving me some glimmer of hope. Go under? Ain't I under now?
I can't do more than get under the ground!"

Mr. Simmons's superior brightness appeared to flicker a moment in this
gust of despair, but the next it was burning steady again. "DON'T 'cry,'
Searle," I heard him say. "Remember the waiter. I've grown Englishman
enough for that. For heaven's sake don't let's have any nerves. Nerves
won't do anything for you here. It's best to come to the point. Tell me
in three words what you expect of me."

I heard another movement, as if poor Searle had collapsed in his
chair. "Upon my word, sir, you're quite inconceivable. You never got my
letter?"

"Yes, I got your letter. I was never sorrier to get anything in my
life."

At this declaration Mr. Searl