then how did I know that Hankey might not prefer me to knock upon his back or his side windows? My friend F. II might be a martyr and a patriot; but business-like? No.     

       “Blind fortune is the goddess to-night,” I said to myself, and with that I tapped gently upon the third window from the door counting towards the right. I have often since consoled myself by thinking that I should have exhibited no greater intuition had I counted towards the left.     

       I tap three times. No answer. Again three times. Still no answer. It was diabolically dark, and the trees made rustling noises very disconcerting to the nerves of one unaccustomed to practise these preliminaries before calling upon a friend.     

       “The devil!” I say to myself. “This time I shall make Mr. Hankey hear me.”      

       And so I knocked very sharply and loudly, so sharply that I cracked the pane.     

       “Unfortunate,” I thought; “but why should I not convert Hankey's misfortune into my advantage?”      

       With the intention of perhaps obtaining a glimpse into the room, I pushed the pane till, with an alarming crash, a considerable portion fell upon the gravel.     

  

       With a start I turned, and there, approaching me from either side, were two men. Hankey had evidently heard me at last.     

       “Who are you?” said one of them, a stout gentleman, I could see, with a consequential voice. I came a step towards him. “For the King,” I replied.     

       He seemed to be staring at me.     

       “What the devil—?” he exclaimed, in surprise.     

       My heart began to sink.     

       “You are Mr. Hankey?” I inquired.     

       “I am not,” he replied, with emphasis.     

       Here was a delicate predicament!     

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