"Is that all right?" asked Drishna, passing across the letter he had written.
Carrados smiled at this tribute to his perception.
"Quite excellent," he replied courteously. "There is a train at nine-forty. Will that suit you?"
Drishna nodded and stood up. Mr. Carlyle had a very uneasy feeling that he ought to do something but could not suggest to himself what.
The next moment he heard his friend heartily thanking the visitor for the assistance he had been in the matter of the Indo-Scythian inscription, as they walked across the hall together. Then a door closed.
"I believe that there is something positively uncanny about Max at times," murmured the perturbed gentleman to himself.
THE TRAGEDY AT BROOKBEND COTTAGE
"Max," said Mr. Carlyle, when Parkinson had closed the door behind him, "this is Lieutenant Hollyer, whom you consented to see."
"To hear," corrected Carrados, smiling straight into the healthy and rather embarrassed face of the stranger before him. "Mr. Hollyer knows of my disability?"
"Mr. Carlyle told me," said the young man, "but, as a matter of fact, I had heard of you before, Mr. Carrados, from one of our men. It was in connection with the foundering of the Ivan Saratov."