Rosser.
At a little distance, within easy hearing, but taking no part in the
conversation, sat a fourth. He was a stranger to the others. They
merely knew that on his arrival by the stage-coach that afternoon he had
written in the hotel register the name of Robert Grossmith. He had not
been observed to speak to anyone except the hotel clerk. He seemed,
indeed, singularly fond of his own company--or, as the _personnel_ of
the _Advance_ expressed it, "grossly addicted to evil associations." But
then it should be said in justice to the stranger that the _personnel_
was himself of a too convivial disposition fairly to judge one
differently gifted, and had, moreover, experienced a slight rebuff in an
effort at an "interview."

"I hate any kind of deformity in a woman," said King, "whether natural
or--acquired. I have a theory that any physical defect has its
correlative mental and moral defect."

"I infer, then," said Rosser, gravely, "that a lady lacking the moral
advantage of a nose would find the struggle to become Mrs. King an
arduous enterprise."

"Of course you may put it that way," was the reply; "but, seriously, I
once threw over a most charming girl on learning quite accidentally that
she had suffered amputation of a toe. My conduct was brutal if you like,
but if I had married that girl I should have been miserable for life and
should have made her so."

"Whereas," said Sancher, with a light laugh, "by marrying a gentleman of
more liberal view she escaped with a parted throat."

"Ah, you know to whom I refer. Yes, she married Manton, but I don't know
about his liberality; I'm not sure but he cut her throat because he
discovered that she lacked that excellent thing in woman, the middle toe
of the right foot."

"Look at that chap!" said Rosser in a low voice, his eyes fixed upon the
stranger.

That chap was obviously listening intently to the conversation.

"Damn his impudence!" muttered King--"what ought we to do?"

"That's an easy one," Rosser replied, rising. "Sir," he continued,
addressing the stranger, "I think it would be better if you would remove
your chair to the other end of the veranda. The presence of gentlemen is
evidently an unfamiliar situation to you."

The man sprang to his feet and strode forward with clenched hands, his
face white with rage. All were now standing. Sancher stepped between the
belligerents.

"You are hasty and unjust," he said to Rosser; "this gentleman has done
nothing