is parents,
he was inwardly remarking that the gray face, with its stiff lines, its
compressed lips, its unmoving expression, and its stamp of suffering,
was really sympathetic. Something in the composure of the manner and the
measured way of speaking imposed this new acquaintance on him as a
superior. Instinctively he said "sir" to him, as to an elder, though the
difference in their ages could not have been more than seven or eight
years. It flattered him somewhat, too, that the man who kept aloof from
others should make an exception of him and welcome his advances. They
parted with the tacit understanding that for the future, in the routine
of the hotel, they should be on speaking terms.

There was, however, no further meeting between them till after dinner on
the following evening. Turning from the purchase of stamps at the
concierge's desk, Chip saw his new acquaintance, wearing an Inverness
cloak over his dinner-jacket, and a soft felt hat, lighting a cigar.
There was an exchange of nods. On the older man's lips there was a ghost
of a smile. It seemed friendly. He spoke:

"You don't want to smoke a cigar in the little park? It's rather
pleasant there, with a full moon like this."

So it was that within a few minutes they found themselves seated side by
side on one of the benches of the terraced promenade where they had met
on the previous day. Though the row of shining spiritual presences had
withdrawn, the valley was spanned by a Velvety luminosity, through which
the lights of the lower town shone like stars reflected in water. The
talk was of the conference. The stranger spoke of himself:

"I've been interested in the various methods of international
communication for many years. In fact, I've made some slight study of
them. When the authorities were good enough to appoint me on this
commission I was glad to serve."

"Quite so," Chip murmured, politely.

"It's an attractive little town, too--one of the few capitals in Europe
that remain characteristic of their countries, and nothing else--wholly
or nearly unaffected by the current of life outside. But," he went on,
unexpectedly, "I wonder what a man like you can see in it--to remain
here so long?"

Chip was startled, but he managed to say: "It isn't that I see anything
in particular. I'm--"

"Waiting?"

The query was perfectly courteous. It implied no more than a casual
curiosity--hardly that.

"No; resting," Chip answered, with forced firmness.

"