"You have made no mistake," Russell said in tones of satisfaction. "I should know that rascal anywhere. You have done an exceedingly good night's work and can go back to your rooms with the feeling that you have earned your money. See me in the morning and I will tell you what to do next. And if you could effect a change for the better in your wardrobe——"
Goatley nodded and went his way, so that Russell was free to take stock of the man whom he had been looking for so long. He was not more interested than Uzali, who kept his eyes fixed upon the two intently; indeed, Russell had to speak to him more than once before he could get a reply from his companion.
"Yes, yes," Uzali whispered. "But it is nearly one, and all these people will be going soon. Let us get outside and wait. I have a particular reason for wishing to see who it is that Jansen has in his company."
The request was so significant that Russell rose without further protest. They stood together in the shade waiting till the audience poured out. Jansen and a little man in an ulster were almost the last to appear. Russell saw Uzali's eyes glisten.
"Let us follow them," the latter whispered. "It is as I thought. The man in the coat is one of my countrymen."
CHAPTER XXXVI
LEADING THE WAY
To all outward appearances, the little bird-fancier's shop in Gray's Inn Road was innocent enough, and no doubt the police would have given the tenant of the shop a good character if they had been asked about his antecedents. The proprietor was a born naturalist and was too much devoted to his studies to make his business a success. He was a dried-up little man who lived behind the shop where he did entirely for himself, for he had a morbid horror of everything in the shape of woman. He cared little or nothing for the litter and confusion which marked his sitting-room, and as long as he could pay his rent was satisfied to pass a monotonous existence. It was, therefore, a stroke of luck for Mr. Giles when a somewhat obese foreigner walked into his shop one day and asked if he had a couple of rooms to spare. Giles had the rooms to spare, but there was no furniture in them, and he could not depart from his rule that no woman should ever set foot on the premises. Instead of regarding these statements as drawbacks, the would-be lodger affected to receive them with every demonstration of approval.
"Ah, my friend," he said, "this is just what I want. I am an old traveller. I have seen a great deal of the world and have always been accustomed to do for myself. If I pay ten shillings a week for these rooms and bring my own furniture, will that satisfy you, eh? I will not interfere with you and you will not interfere with me. I will cook my own food and do my own cleaning and everything. What I want is quiet, for I am writing a book on my travels, and must not be interrupted."
There was only one reply to such an offer, and that was to close with it with alacrity. Ten shillings a week would make all the difference between affluence and poverty to the naturalist. It would pay his rent and enable him to buy such books as his soul coveted. Within a week Jansen was established in his new quarters. It was no empty boast that his landlord and he would see little of one another, for weeks passed at a time without their exchanging a word.