friend."

Mr. Davis almost smiled, and then, suddenly remembering his wasted twenty
years, shook his head grimly over the friendship that attached itself to
easy-chairs and glasses of ale, and said that there was plenty of it
about. More friendship than glasses of ale and easy-chairs, perhaps.

At Clapham, they inquired the way of a small boy, and, after following
the road indicated, retraced their steps, cheered by a faint but
bloodthirsty hope of meeting him again.

A friendly baker put them on the right track at last, both gentlemen
eyeing the road with a mixture of concern and delight. It was a road of
trim semi-detached villas, each with a well-kept front garden and
neatly-curtained windows. At the gate of a house with the word
"Blairgowrie" inscribed in huge gilt letters on the fanlight Mr. Davis
paused for a moment uneasily, and then, walking up the path, followed by
Mr. Wotton, knocked at the door.

He retired a step in disorder before the apparition of a maid in cap and
apron. A sharp "Not to-day!" sounded in his ears and the door closed
again. He faced his friend gasping.

"I should give her the sack first thing," said Mr. Wotton.

Mr. Davis knocked again, and again. The maid reappeared, and after
surveying them through the glass opened the door a little way and
parleyed.

"I want to see your missis," said Mr. Davis, fiercely.

"What for?" demanded the girl.

"You tell 'er," said Mr. Davis, inserting his foot just in time, "you
tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought 'er news of
her husband, and look sharp about it."

"They was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.

"On a desert island," said Mr. Davis. He pushed his way in, followed by
his friend, and a head that had been leaning over the banisters was
suddenly withdrawn. For a moment he stood irresolute in the tiny
passage, and then, with a husband's boldness, he entered the front room
and threw himself into an easy-chair. Mr. Wotton, after a scared glance
around the well-furnished room, seated himself on the extreme edge of the
most uncomfortable chair he could find and coughed nervously.

[Illustration: "You tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have
brought 'er news of her husband"]

"Better not be too sudden with her," he whispered. "You don't want her
to faint, or anything of that sort. Don't let 'er know who you are at
first; let her find it out for herself."

Mr. Davis, who was also suffering f