"I assure you," he was saying, "it was desperate work from beginning to end, and I was never so relieved in my life as when I discovered that he had really come to say good-bye."
At this juncture one of them must have realised that the door was open, for I heard someone rise from his chair and come towards it. Acting under the influence of a curiosity, which was as baneful to him as it was fortunate to me, before closing it he opened the door wider and looked into the room where I sat. It was Baxter, and if I live to be a hundred I shall not forget the expression on his face as his eyes fell on me.
"Mr. Hatteras," he gasped, clutching at the wall for support.
Resolved to take him at a disadvantage, I rushed towards him and shook him warmly by the hand, at the same time noticing that he had discarded his clerical costume. It was too late now for him to pretend that he did not know me, and as I had taken the precaution to place my foot against it, it was equally impossible for him to shut the door. Seeing this he felt compelled to surrender, and I will do him the justice to admit that he did it with as good a grace as possible.
"Mr. Baxter," I said, "this is the last place I should have expected to meet you in. May I come in and sit down?"
Without giving him time to reply I entered the room, resolved to see who his companion might be. Of course, in my own mind I had quite settled that it was the person to whom he had telegraphed from Bourne mouth—in other words, Nikola. But who was Nikola? And had I ever seen him before?
My curiosity was destined to be satisfied, and in a
