"Amazement!" Colin Rayne repeated, as Hillyard drained his glass.
"Yes. For I know the man."
There was the silence that follows some stupendous happening; eyes were riveted upon Hillyard in admiration; and then the silence burst.
"He knows him!"
"It's incredible!"
"Actually knows him!"
And suddenly above the din Blacker's voice rose warningly.
"Don't let's lose our heads! That's the great thing! Let us keep as calm as we can and think out our questions very carefully lest the Heaven-sent Bearer of Great Tidings should depart without revealing all he knows."
Chairs were hitched a little closer about Hillyard. The care which had brooded in that room was quite dispelled.
"Have some more port, sir," said the youngest of that gathering, eagerly pushing across the bottle. Hillyard filled his glass. Port was his, and prestige too. He might write a successful play. That was all very well. He might go shooting for eight months along by the two Niles and the Dinder. That was all very well too. He was welcome at the Senga Mess. But he knew Sir Chichester Splay! He acquired in an instant the importance of a prodigy.