"And who taught it you—the landlord, Joe Hind?" "No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. “I got Sydney’s telegram at ten o’clock, and caught the ten-thirty from the Gare du Nord. Nine years ago, I worked in this very house—had a kind indulgent master, whom I robbed—twice robbed, at your instigation, villain; a mistress, whom you have murdered; a companion, whose friendship I have for ever forfeited; a mother, whose heart I have well-nigh broken. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech.
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