it. It shows you that there is such things as miracles.”
“Do I understand you to say that three months ago you were in the company of Mr. Batters?”
“I was. And likewise four months ago. And I hope to be in his company again before long, dead or alive. It won’t be my fault if I’m not; you may go the lot on that.”
There was something about the fellow which struck me as peculiar; it was not alone his impudence, which belonged to another sort of singularity. There seemed to be a covert meaning in his manner and his words. I turned to Miss Purvis.
“If you don’t mind I think I will hear what this person has to say; it may be of importance to your friend. If you will allow me to leave you here, I think I may arrive quicker at his meaning if I am alone with him.”
She signified her consent. I led the way into the office. Without showing in any way that he objected, the stranger followed.
“Now my man, let us understand each other as clearly as we can, and keep to the point as closely as you are able. What’s your name?”
“Luke.”
“Luke what?”
“Luke nothing. I’m known to those who knew me best as St Luke, after the apostle, being of saintlike character, but in general Luke’s name enough for me. They was modest where I come from.”
“What are you?”
“A sailor man, late of the good ship Flying Scud.”
“The Flying Scud?” I stared at him askance, not certain that I had caught the name correctly. That particular ship seemed in the air. “Then do you know Captain Lander?”
As I asked the question his manner changed. It became suspicious. Thrusting his thumbs into his
