It was not without distinctly good reason that he set himself systematically to explore London—not the London commonly known to the average sight-seer, but the London of the obscure Londoner,—the London of distant suburbs, the London of mean streets, the London of the docks and slums and of wastes of respectable spaces.

In the course of his peregrinations Westerham found himself one night at about the hour of ten wandering in a particularly ill-lit and remote corner of Hyde Park.

He was walking lightly over the wet grass with almost silent feet. Indeed, as he swung gently forward, his mind was far away on the soft prairie land that he seemed to have left years and years before. So occupied was he with his thoughts that he came near to walking into a couple engaged in a heated controversy beneath a tree.

When, however, he beheld them, he came to a sudden standstill, all his senses alive, his quick intuition telling him he was in the presence of some matter of moment.

He did not like the look of the thick-set greasy man who faced the girl. Westerham could read a[Pg 30] man's character as easily from his back as he could from his face, and he had instantly a great distrust of the fat man's aspect.

[Pg 30]

The girl he could not see, but it was with some unaccountable notion of doing her a service, and not with the remotest idea of eavesdropping, that he stepped softly and silently to the further side of a tree trunk.

Then he heard the girl's voice saying in low, quiet, earnest accents:

“Why will you not let us rest? Why do you pursue us in this way? Surely it is inhuman to adopt these methods. You know what you want, and you have practically the power of obtaining it. Is it fair to drag me to a place like this and insult me in this way?”

The man mumbled something which Westerham could not catch.

Then he heard the girl utter a little cry.

“Look!” she exclaimed eagerly. “Look! I will make you an offer. Free us from this horrible nightmare, give me your word that you will not persecute us further, and I will give you these.”

Westerham heard the rustle of draperies, and was conscious that the girl reached out her hands. The man took something from her. His head was bent over the object, 

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