ntanglement?"

But to my acute disappointment, Martin merely growled, shaking his
head gloomily; and in this significant gesture he was closely imitated
by Hawkins. Therefore:

"Is he badly disfigured?" I persisted.

"Only one is deep," replied Hawkins, glancing almost apologetically at
the landlord. The unfortunate incident seemed to have drawn them more
closely together. "The one on his neck. But he prides himself on his
looks, don't he, Martin?"

"He do," agreed Martin.

I took the bull by the horns. I never neglect an opportunity of this
nature, for however irrelevant to the matter in hand an episode may
seem to be, not infrequently I have found that it is by the pursuit of
such chance clews that one is led to the very piece of news that is
sought.

"Drink up, gentlemen," I said, "and as the night draws on, we shall
just have time for a peg of whisky before ten o'clock."

My effort proved successful, for whilst Martin prepared the ordered
drinks, almost with alacrity, Hawkins became quite confidential.

"Young Mr. Edward Hines that was, sir," he confided, in a church
whisper. "His father is the biggest farmer round these parts and young
Mr. Edward is a terror with the gals, he is. Mind you, he's straight
out about it. Comes in here, he do, and says straight out who he's
after. And it's woe betide the one who takes him up on it. I'm glad my
gal is up to London, with that Mr. Edward about, I am."

The drinks being placed upon the counter, he ceased, and:

"Good health!" said I; then: "Yes--about our mutilated young friend?"
I prompted.

"Well," continued Hawkins--"it's kind o' funny, ain't it, Martin?"

The landlord growled.

"Mr. Edward he come in here three weeks back all puffed up with
himself. Said he'd got an appointment with a lady down from London
what was coming all the way from West Wingham to see him. Didn't he,
Martin?"

Martin corroborated.

"He see her, too," declared Hawkins with a sort of schoolboy naivete.
"And he see her again four nights after. She give him a present--a
keepsake. He showed us. Then he seen her a third time, and--"

Hawkins ceased speaking and looked at the landlord as if mutely
appealing for his aid in making clear to me what occurred at this
third tryst with the mysterious "lady from London."

"Go on," prompted Martin. "Tell him. He's stopping here; he's all
right."

I keenly appreciated the compliment conveyed by this, the landlord's
longest speech of the e