t I always thought that it was half the _right_ ear
that Bingo had lost."

"So it is, isn't it?" said the colonel. "Left, eh? Well, I thought
myself it was the right."

My heart almost stopped with terror; I had altogether forgotten that.
I hastened to set the point at rest. "Oh, it _was_ the left," I said,
positively; "I know it because I remember so particularly thinking how
odd it was that it _should_ be the left ear, and not the right!" I told
myself this should be positively my last lie.

"_Why_ odd?" asked Frank Travers, with his most offensive Socratic
manner.

"My dear fellow, I can't tell you," I said, impatiently; "everything
seems odd when you come to think at all about it."

"Algernon," said Lilian, later on, "will you tell Aunt Mary and Mr.
Travers and--me how it was you came to find Bingo? Mr. Travers is quite
anxious to hear all about it."

I could not very well refuse; I sat down and told the story, all my own
way. I painted Blagg perhaps rather bigger and blacker than life, and
described an exciting scene, in which I recognised Bingo by his collar
in the streets, and claimed and bore him off then and there in spite of
all opposition.

I had the inexpressible pleasure of seeing Travers grinding his teeth
with envy as I went on, and feeling Lilian's soft, slender hand glide
silently into mine as I told my tale in the twilight.

All at once, just as I reached the climax, we heard the poodle barking
furiously at the hedge which separated my garden from the road.

"There's a foreign-looking man staring over the hedge," said Lilian;
"Bingo always _did_ hate foreigners."

There certainly was a swarthy man there, and, though I had no reason for
it then, somehow my heart died within me at the sight of him.

"Don't be alarmed, sir," cried the colonel; "the dog won't bite
you--unless there's a hole in the hedge anywhere."

The stranger took off his small straw hat with a sweep. "Ah, I am not
afraid," he said, and his accent proclaimed him a Frenchman; "he is not
enrage at me. May I ask, it is pairmeet to speak viz Misterre Vezzered?"

I felt I must deal with this person alone, for I feared the worst; and,
asking them to excuse me, I went to the hedge and faced the Frenchman
with the frightful calm of despair. He was a short, stout little man,
with blue cheeks, sparkling black eyes, and a vivacious walnut-coloured
countenance; he wore a short black alpaca coat, and a large white
cravat, with an imme