threatening a night, when fire is burning and wine flowing at the guest house, do you choose to crouch here in the cold and darkness?”

He looked at me with his filmy eyes, and that faint smile that had more of menace in it than a panther’s snarl. “I laid in wait for you, it is true, noble sir,” he said in his thin, dreamy voice, “but it was for your good. I would give you warning, sir.”

He stood with his mean figure bent cringingly forward, and with his hat in his hand. “A warning, sir,” he went ramblingly on. “Maybe a certain one has made me his enemy. Maybe I cut myself loose from his service. Maybe I would do him an ill turn. I can tell you a secret, sir.” He lowered his voice and looked around, as if in fear of eavesdroppers.