building."

Hamel nodded.

"I not only tried but I succeeded," he remarked. "I got in through
the window."

Mr. Fentolin's eyes glittered for a moment. Hamel, who had resumed
his place upon the rock close at hand, had been mixed up during his
lifetime in many wild escapades. Yet at that moment he had a sudden
feeling that there were dangers in life which as yet he had not
faced.

"May I ask for your explanation or your excuse?"

"You can call it an explanation or an excuse, whichever you like,"
Hamel replied steadily, "but the fact is that this little building,
which some one else seems to have appropriated, is mine. If I had
not been a good-natured person, I should be engaged, at the present
moment, in turning out its furniture on to the beach."

"What is your name?" Mr. Fentolin asked suddenly.

"My name is Hamel--Richard Hamel."

For several moments there was silence. Mr. Fentolin was still
leaning forward in his strange little vehicle. The colour seemed
to have left even his lips. The hard glitter in his eyes had given
place to an expression almost like fear. He looked at Richard
Hamel as though he were some strange sea-monster come up from