"Yes?" he said. The stranger's face became vaguely familiar to him. "I have seen you before, I think."
"Once," replied the other. "My name is Warrisden. You saw me for a few minutes on the deck of a fish-carrier in the North Sea."
"To be sure," he said slowly. "Yes, to be sure, I did. You were sent to find me by Miss Pamela Mardale."
"She sends me again," replied Warrisden.
Stretton's heart sank in fear. He had disobeyed the summons before. He remembered Pamela's promise to befriend his wife. He remembered her warning that he should not leave his wife.
"She sent you then with an urgent message that I should return home," he said.
"I carry the same message again, only it is a thousand times more urgent."
He drew a letter from his pocket as he spoke, and handed it to Stretton. "I was to give you this," he said.
Stretton looked at the handwriting and nodded.
"Thank you," he said gravely.