not my Geneva companion; indeed that we had never met before, and that
he had never been in Geneva.

The dinner was not a great success. Gastrell talked at considerable
length on all sorts of subjects, talked, too, in a most interesting and
sometimes very amusing way; yet all the time the thought that was in
Osborne's mind was in my mind also--it was impossible, he was thinking,
that this man seated at dinner with us could be other than the
individual he had met on board ship; it was impossible, I was thinking,
that this man seated at dinner with us could be other than the
individual I had met in Geneva.

Easterton, a great talker in the club, was particularly silent. He too
was puzzled; worse than that--he felt, I could see, anxious and
uncomfortable. He had let his house to this man--the lease was already
signed--and now his tenant seemed to be, in some sense, a man
of mystery.

We sat in the big room with the bay window, after dinner, until about
half-past ten, when Gastrell said he must be going. During the whole
time he had been with us he had kept us entertained by his interesting
conversation, full of quaint reminiscences, and touched with flashes
of humour.

"I hope we shall see a great deal of each other when I am settled in
Cumberland Place," he said, as he prepared to leave. The remark, though
spoken to Easterton, had been addressed to us all, and we made some
conventional reply in acknowledgment.

"And if, later, I decide to join this club," he said presently, "you