CHAPTER XXV
THE MAN IN THE YELLOW BOOTS
The two men did not meet again until luncheon-time, Anglicized into a one-o'clock meal for their benefit. Already seated at the table they found a short fair man, in the costume of a pedestrian tourist. He wore a tweed knickerbocker suit, and a knapsack lay upon the grass by his side. As Wrayson and his fellow-guest arrived almost at the same time, the newcomer rose and bowed.
"Good morning, gentlemen!" he said. "I trust you will permit me a seat at your table. It appears to be the only one."
Duncan contented himself with a nod. Wrayson felt compelled to be a little more civil. The man certainly seemed harmless enough.
"A very delightful spot, gentlemen," he continued, "and a fine, a very fine church that in the valley. I am spending my holiday taking photographs of churches of a certain period in this vicinity. I am looking forward to explore this one."
"I am afraid," Wrayson remarked, "that I do not know much of ecclesiastical architecture, but the æsthetic effect of this one, at least, is very fine."
The newcomer nodded.
"You are an artist perhaps, sir?" he asked innocently.
"I hope so—in some degree," Wrayson answered.
