The Lion door was close at hand. In reply to the sailor's question
the landlord said that M. du Tillet was within. The sailor put
down the trunk, pocketed the coin Harry gave him, and with a "Good
luck, young master!" went out, taking with him, as Harry felt,
the last link to England. He turned and followed the landlord. The
latter mounted a flight of stairs, knocked at a door, and opened
it.

"A young gentleman desires to see M. du Tillet," he said, and Harry
entered.

A tall, big man, whose proportions at once disappointed Harry's
preconceived notions as to the smallness and leanness of Frenchmen,
rose from the table at which he was writing.

"Monsieur-Sandwith?" he said interrogatively. "I am glad to see
you.

Harry did not understand the latter portion of the remark, but he
caught the sound of his name.

"That's all right," he said nodding. "How do you do, M. du Tillet?"

The French gentleman bowed; Harry bowed; and then they looked
at each other. There was nothing more to say. A smile stole over
Harry's face, and broke into a frank laugh. The Frenchman smiled,
put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and said:

"Brave garcon!" and Harry felt they were friends.