COMING OF THE BLACK STONE
Whittaker, the Admiralty official, and there was General Winstanley, conspicuous from the long scar on his forehead. Lastly there was a short stout man with an iron-grey moustache and bushy eyebrows, who had been arrested in the middle of a sentence.
Sir Walter's face showed surprise and annoyance.
"This is Mr. Hannay, of whom I have spoken to you," he said apologetically to the company. "I'm afraid, Hannay, this visit is ill-timed."
I was getting back my coolness. "That remains to be seen, sir," I said, "but I think it may be in the nick of time. For God's sake, gentlemen, tell me who went out a minute ago?"
"Lord Alloa," Sir Walter said, reddening with anger.
"It was not," I cried. "It was his living image, but it was not Lord Alloa. It was some one who recognised me, some one I have seen in the last month. He had scarcely left the doorstep when I rang up Lord Alloa's
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