orrow. And bring the proofs of those two papers with you. We'll run
over them together."

"How long are you going to be away?"

"I can't say for certain, but be prepared to stay for some time. We've
stuck to work pretty closely through the summer, and I for one need a
holiday. I'll engage the rooms at Brighton. You'll find it best to break
the journey at Hitchin. I'll wire to you there at the Crown to tell you
the Brighton address."

The house he chose at Brighton was in a terrace. He had been there
before. It was kept by his old college gyp, a man of discreet silence,
who was admirably partnered by an excellent cook. The rooms were on the
first floor. The two bedrooms were at the back, and opened out of each
other. "Saunders can have the smaller one, though it is the only one
with a fireplace," he said. "I'll stick to the larger of the two, since
it's got a bathroom adjoining. I wonder what time he'll arrive with the
car."

Saunders came about seven, cold and cross and dirty. "We'll light the
fire in the dining-room," said Eustace, "and get Prince to unpack some
of the things while we are at dinner. What were the roads like?"

"Rotten; swimming with mud, and a beastly cold wind against us all day.
And this is July. Dear old England!"

"Yes," said Eustace, "I think we might do worse than leave dear old
England for a few months."

They turned in soon after twelve.

"You oughtn't to feel cold, Saunders," said Eustace, "when you can
afford to sport a great cat-skin lined coat like this. You do yourself
very well, all things considered. Look at those gloves, for instance.
Who could possibly feel cold when wearing them?"

"They are far too clumsy though for driving. Try them on and see," and
he tossed them through the door on to Eustace's bed, and went on with
his unpacking. A minute later he heard a shrill cry of terror. "Oh,
Lord," he heard, "it's in the glove! Quick, Saunders, quick!" Then came
a smacking thud. Eustace had thrown it from him. "I've chucked it into
the bathroom," he gasped, "it's hit the wall and fallen into the bath.
Come now if you want to help." Saunders, with a lighted candle in his
hand, looked over the edge of the bath. There it was, old and maimed,
dumb and blind, with a ragged hole in the middle, crawling, staggering,
trying to creep up the slippery sides, only to fall back helpless.

"Stay there," said Saunders. "I'll empty a collar box or something, and
we'll jam it in. It can't get o