"Hide him if I can," Fardell answered, grimly. "If I can get him out of this place, it ought not to be impossible. The most important thing at present is for you to get away without being recognized."
Mannering took up his hat.
"I will go," he said. "I shall leave the cab for you. I can find my way back to the hotel."
Fardell nodded.
"It would be better," he said. "Turn your coat-collar up and draw your hat down over your eyes. You mustn't be recognized down here. It's a pretty low part."
Nevertheless, Mannering had not reached the corner of the street before he heard hasty footsteps behind him, and felt a light touch upon his shoulder. He turned sharply round.
"Well, sir!" he exclaimed, "what do you want with me?"
The newcomer was a tall, thin young man, wearing glasses, and although he was a complete stranger to Mannering, he knew at once who he was.
"Mr. Mannering, I believe?" he said, quickly.
"What has my name to do with you, sir?" Mannering answered, coldly.