“Gerald！“Mr。Fentolinrepeated。
Thenitwasobviousthattherewassomethingbetweenthosetwo，somememoryorsomelivingthing，seldom，ifever，tobespokenof，andyetalwayspresent。Theboybegantotremble。
“You’realittleoverwrought，Gerald，“Mr。Fentolindeclared。
“Sitquietlyinmyeasy-chairforafewmoments。WaltuntilIhaveexaminedMr。Dunster’sbelongings。Ah！Meekinshasbeenprompt，indeed。“
Therewasastealthytapatthedoor。Meekinsenteredwiththesmalldressing-caseinhishand。Hebroughtitovertohismaster’schair。Mr。Fentolinpointedtothefloor。
“Openitthere，Meekins，“hedirected。“Ifancythatthepocket-bookyouarecarryingwillprovemoreinteresting。Wewilljustglancethroughthedressing-casefirst。Thankyou。Yes，youcanlaythethingsuponthefloor。AmanofSpartan-likelife，IshouldimagineMr。Dunster。Asparetoothbrush，though，Iamgladtosee。Pyjamasofmostunattractivepattern。Andwhatatasteinshirts！Nothingbutwearingapparelandsingularlylittleofthat，Ifancy。“
Thedressing-casewasempty，itscontentsuponthefloor。Mr。
Fentolinheldouthishandandtookthepocket-bookwhichMeekinshadbeencarrying。Itwasanordinarymoroccoaffair，similartothoseissuedbyAmericanbankinghousestoencloselettersofcredit。
Onesideofitwasfilledwithnotes。Mr。Fentolinwithdrewthemandglancedthemthrough。
“Dearme！“hemurmured。“Nowonderourfriendengagesspecialtrains！Hetravelslikeaprince，indeed。Twothousandpounds，ornearit，inthislittlecompartment。Andhere，Isee，aletter，asealedletterwithnoaddress。“
Hehelditoutinfrontofhim。Itwasalongcommercialenvelopeofordinarytype，andalthoughtheflapwassecuredwithablobofsealingwax，therewasnoparticularimpressionuponit。
“Wecanmatchthisenvelope，Ithink，“Mr。Fentolinsaidsoftly。
“Thesealwecancopy。Ithinkthat，forthesakeofothers，wemustdiscoverthecauseforthishurriedjourneyonthepartofMr。
JohnP。Dunster。“
Withhislong，delicateforefingerMr。Fentolinslittheenvelopeandwithdrewthesinglesheetofpaperwhichitcontained。Therewereadozenlinesofwrittenmatter，andwhatappearedtobeadozensignaturesappended。Mr。Fentolinreadit，atfirstwithordinaryinterest。Thenachangecame。Thelookofamandrawnoutofhimself，drawnoutofallknowledgeofhissurroundingsorhispresentstate，stoleintohisface。Literallyhebecametransfixed。Thedelicatefingersofhis，lefthandgrippedthesidesofhislittlecarriage。Hiseyesshoneasthoughthosefewwrittenlinesuponwhichtheywererivetedwereindeedsomemessagefromanunknown，anunimaginedworld。Yetnowordeverpassedhislips。Therecameatimewhenthetensionseemedalittlerelaxed。
Withfingerswhichstilltrembled，hefoldedupthesheetandreplaceditintheenvelope。Heguardeditwithbothhishandsandsatquitestill。NeitherGeraldnorhisservantmoved。Somehow，thesenseofMr。Fentolin’ssuppressedexcitementseemedtohavebecomecommunicatedtothem。Itwasalittletableau，brokenatlastbyMr。Fentolinhimself。
“Ishouldlike，“hesaid，turningtoGerald，“tobealone。ItmayinterestyoutoknowthatthisdocuwhichMr。Dunsterhasbroughtacrosstheseas，andwhichIholdinmyhands，isthemostamazingmessageofmoderntimes。“
Geraldrosetohisfeet。
“Whatareyougoingtodoaboutit？“heaskedabruptly。“Doyouwantanyoneinfromthetelegraphroom？“
Mr。Fentolinshookhisheadslowly。
“Atpresent，“heannounced，“Iamgoingtoreflect。Meekins，mychairtothenorthwindow-so。Iamgoingtosithere，“hewenton，“andIamgoingtolookacrossthesea_andreflect。Averyfortunatestorm，afterall，Ithink，whichkeptMr。JohnP。DunsterfromtheHarwichboatlastnight。Leaveme，Gerald，foratime。
Standbehindmychair，Meekins，andseethatnooneenters。“
Mr。Fentolinsatinhischair，hishandsstillgrippingthewonderfuldocument，hiseyestravellingovertheoceannowfleckedwithsunlight。Hiseyeswerefixeduponthehorizon。Helookedsteadilyeastward。
Mr。JohnP。Dunsteropenedhiseyesuponstrangesurroundings。Hefoundhimselflyinguponabeddeliciouslysoft，withlace-edgedsheetsandlavender-perfumedbedhangings。Throughthediscreetlyopenedupperwindowcameapleasantandozone-ladenbreeze。Thefurnitureintheroomwasmostlyofanold-fashionedtype，someofitofoak，curiouslycarved，andmostofitsurmountedwithacoatofarms。Theapartmentwasloftyandofalmostpalatialproportions。
Thewholeatmosphereoftheplacebreathedcomfortandrefinement。
Theonlythingofwhichhedidnotwhollyapprovewasthefaceofthenursewhorosesilentlytoherfeetathismurmuredquestion:
“WhereamI？“
Shefelthisforehead，alteredabandageforamoment，andtookhiswristbetweenherfingers。
“Youhavebeenill，“shesaid。“Therewasarailwayaccident。Youaretoliequitestillandnotsayaword。Iamgoingtofetchthedoctornow。Hewishedtoseeyoudirectlyyouspoke。“
Mr。Dunsterdozedagainforseveralmoments。Whenhereopenedhiseyes，amanwasstandingbyhisbedside，ashortmanwithablackbeardandgold-rimmedglasses。Mr。Dunster，inthisfirststageofhisconvalescence，wasperhapsdifficulttoplease，forhedidnotlikethelookofthedoctor，either。
“PleasetellmewhereIam？“hebegged。
“Youhavebeeninarailwayaccident，“thedoctortoldhim，“andyouwerebroughthereafterwards。“
“Inarailwayaccident，“Mr。Dunsterrepeated。“Ah，yes，Iremember！
ItookaspecialtoHarwich-Iremembernow。Whereismydressing-bag？“
“Itisherebythesideofyourbed。“
“Andmypocket-book？“
“Itisonyourdressing-table。“
“Haveanyofmythingsbeenlookedat？“
“Onlysofaraswasnecessarytodiscoveryouridentity，“thedoctorassuredhim。“Don’ttalktoomuch。Thenurseisbringingyousomebeeftea。“
“When，“Mr。Dunsterenquired，“shallIbeabletocontinuemyjourney？“
“Thatdependsuponmanythings，“thedoctorreplied。
Mr。Dunsterdrankhisbeefteaandfeltconsiderablystronger。Hisheadstillached，buthismemorywasreturning。
“Therewasayoungmaninthecarriagewithme，“heaskedpresently。
“Mr。GeraldsomethingorotherIthinkhesaidhisnamewas？“
“Fentolin，“thedoctorsaid。“Heisunhurt。Thisishisrelative’shousetowhichyouhavebeenbrought。“
Mr。Dunsterlayforatimewithknittedbrows。OncemorethenameofFentolinseemedsomehowfamiliartohim，seemedsomehowtobringwithittohismemoryanoteofwarning。Helookedaroundtheroomfretfully。Helookedintothenurse’sface，whichhedislikedexceedingly，andhelookedatthedoctor，whomhewasbeginningtodetest。
“Whosehouseexactlyisthis？“hedemanded。
“ThisisSt。David’sHall-thehomeofMr。MilesFentolin，“thedoctortoldhim。“Theyounggentlemanwithwhomyouweretravellingishisnephew。“
“CanIsendatelegram？“Mr。Dunsterasked，alittleabruptly。
“Withoutadoubt，“thedoctorreplied。“Mr。Fentolindesiredmetoaskyouiftherewasanyonewhomyouwouldliketoappriseofyoursafety。“
Againthemanuponthebedlayquitestill，withknittedbrows。
Therewassurelysomethingfamiliaraboutthatname。Wasithisfeveredfancyorwastherealsosomethingalittlesinister？
Thenurse，whohadglidedfromtheroom，camebackpresentlywithsometelegraphforms。Mr。Dunsterheldouthishandforthemandthenhesitated。
“Canyoutellmeanydate，Doctor，uponwhichIcanrelyuponleavinghere？“
“Youwillprobablybewellenoughtotravelonthethirddayfromnow，“thedoctorassuredhim。
“Thethirdday，“Mr。Dunstermuttered。“Verywell。“
Hewroteoutthreetelegramsandpassedthemover。
“One，“hesaid，“istoNewYork，onetoTheHague，andonetoLondon。
Therewasplentyofmoneyinmypocket。Perhapsyouwillfinditandpayforthese。“
