"I'm Armitage," said the other. Thorogood laughed. "Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "Were you in the train? I didn't see you before——"
"Neither did I," was the reply, "but I heard your voice and recognised it. How is Sir William?"
"Uncle Bill? Oh, he's all right. Hard at work on some comic invention of his, as usual."
The other nodded. "Well, give him my love when you write, and tell him I've struck the type of man he wants for that experiment of his. I'll write to him, though. Now I must go and find my little party of braves—bringing an armed guard back to our base. Good-bye and good luck to you."
They shook hands, and the Volunteer half turned away. An afterthought appeared to strike him, however, and he stopped.
"By the way," he added, "how's Miss Cecily? Well, I hope?"
"She's all right, thanks," was the reply. "I'll tell her I've seen you."
"Will you? Yes, thank you. And will you say I—I am looking forward to seeing her again next time I come South?"
The speaker moved away into the darkness.
At that moment appeared Mouldy Jakes, panting behind a barrow. "Who's that old bird?" he queried.