later I was confronting my visitor in the library. He was a well-built young fellow with a deeply tanned face. A scar ran diagonally from the corner of his eye to the jaw, disfiguring what would otherwise have been a handsome though somewhat reckless countenance.
"Well," I said, "what's the matter?"
"Mr. Milray sent me to you, Sir Eustace. I am to accompany you to South Africa as your secretary."
"My dear fellow," I said, "I've got a secretary already. I don't want another."
"I think you do, Sir Eustace. Where is your secretary now?"
"He's down with a bilious attack," I explained.
"You are sure it's only a bilious attack?"
"Of course it is. He's subject to them."
My visitor smiled.
"It may or may not be a bilious attack. Time will show. But I can tell you this, Sir Eustace, Mr. Milray would not be surprised if an attempt were made to get your secretary out of the way. Oh, you need have no fear for yourself"—I suppose a momentary alarm had flickered across my face—"you are not threatened. Your secretary out of the way, access to you would be easier. In any case, Mr. Milray wishes me to accompany you. The passage-money will be our affair, of course, but you will take the necessary steps about the passport, as though you had decided that you needed the services of a second secretary."
He seemed a determined young man. We stared at each other and he stared me down.
"Very well," I said feebly.
"You will say nothing to any one as to my accompanying you."
"Very well," I said again.
After all, perhaps it was better to have this fellow with
