regarding him strangely. He knew he ought to be
somewhere in Cornwall, but he could not square these
things with that impression.

A matter that had been in his mind during his last
waking moments at Boscastle recurred, a thing resolved
upon and somehow neglected. He cleared his
throat.

"Have you wired my cousin?" he asked. "E.
Warming, 27, Chancery Lane?"

They were all assiduous to hear. But he had to
repeat it. "What an odd _blurr_ in his accent!"
whispered the red-haired man. "Wire, sir?" said the
young man with the flaxen beard, evidently puzzled.

"He means send an electric telegram," volunteered
the third, a pleasant-faced youth of nineteen or twenty.
The flaxen-bearded man gave a cry of comprehension.
"How stupid of me! You may be sure everything
shall be done, sir," he said to Graham. "I am afraid
it would be difficult to -- wire to your cousin. He is
not in London now. But don't trouble about arrangements
yet; you have been asleep a very long time and
the important thing is to get over that, sir." (Graham
concluded the word was sir, but this man pronounced
it "Sire.")

"Oh!" said Graham, and became quiet.