fell
excitement. And straightway he burst into a low torrent of words, of
which all I knew was that they were Italian, and therefore news of
Raffles, if only I had known the language! But dumb-show might help us
somewhat, and in I dragged him, though against his will, a new alarm in
his one wild eye.

"Non capite?" he cried when I had him inside and had withstood the
torrent.

"No, I'm bothered if I do!" I answered, guessing his question from his
tone.

"Vostro amico," he repeated over and over again; and then, "Poco tempo,
poco tempo, poco tempo!"

For once in my life the classical education of my public-school days
was of real value. "My pal, my pal, and no time to be lost!" I
translated freely, and flew for my hat.

"Ecco, signore!" cried the fellow, snatching the watch from my
waistcoat pocket, and putting one black thumb-nail on the long hand,
the other on he numeral twelve. "Mezzogiorno--poco tempo--poco
tempo!" And again I seized his meaning, that it was twenty past
eleven, and we must be there by twelve. But where, but where? It was
maddening to be summoned like this, and not to know what had happened,
nor to have any means of finding out. But my presence of mind stood by
me still, I was improving by seven-league strides, and I crammed my
handkerchief between the drum and hammer of the bell before leaving.
The doctor could ring now till he was black in the face, but I was not
coming, and he need not think it.

I half expected to find a hansom waiting, but there was none, and we
had gone some distance down the Earl's Court Road before we got one; in
fact, we had to run to the stand. Opposite is the church with the
clock upon it, as everybody knows, and at sight of the dial my
companion had wrung his hands; it was close upon the half-hour.

"Poco tempo--pochissimo!" he wailed. "Bloom-buree Ske-warr," he then
cried to the cabman--"numero trentotto!"

"Bloomsbury Square," I roared on my own account, "I'll show you the
house when we get there, only drive like be-damned!"

My companion lay back gasping in his corner. The small glass told me
that my own face was pretty red.

"A nice show!" I cried; "and not a word can you tell me. Didn't you
bring me a note?"

I might have known by this time that he had not, still I went through
the pantomime of writing with my finger on my cuff. But he shrugged
and shook his head.

"Niente," said he. "Una quistione di vita, di vita!"

"What's th