"He's Uncle James's man."
Watkins was the replica of Hugh's description of his uncle. He was a chunky, solid sort of man, with the masklike face of the trained English servant. He was clean-shaven, and dressed neatly in a dark suit and felt hat. When we came upon him he was sitting forlornly on a pile of baggage, watching the confusion around him. with a disapproving eye.
"Hullo, Watty?" Hugh greeted him. "Where's my uncle?"
The valet's features lighted up, and he scrambled to his feet.
"Ah, Mister Hugh! I'm very glad to see you, sir, if I may say so. "Is ludship, sir? Why, 'e went off with your messenger, sir."
"My messenger?" Hugh repeated blankly.
"Yes, sir, the dark gentleman. Your man, 'e said 'e was, sir."
"My man!" Hugh appealed to me. "Did you hear that, Jack?"
Watkins became suddenly anxious.
"There's nothing wrong, I 'ope, sir? The gentleman came aboard to find us, and told 'is ludship how you'd been delayed, and 'e was to come along to your rooms, sir, whilst I saw the luggage through the Customs. Wasn't that right, sir?"