The Five Knots

by Fred M. White

"It is not quite half-past nine, sir," the landlady replied. "You came home this morning about seven o'clock. I didn't see you myself, but that is what they tell me. However, I suppose young men will be young men."

There was no mistaking the significance of the last few words, and, despite his racking head, Russell smiled.

"So you think it is like that, do you?" he said. "Let me assure you that you are mistaken. I had an adventure last night which very nearly landed me into serious trouble. But we need not go into that now. If you can get me something to eat I shall be glad, and please let me have a large syphon of soda."

Russell dragged himself into his bedroom where he felt all the better for a bath. Then he swallowed a strong dose of sal volatile, which had the effect of clearing his head and making him feel almost a man again. He managed to eat a fairly good meal presently and partake of a strong whisky and soda, after which he lit his pipe and sat down to review the events of the previous evening. It was all clear to him now.

"What a fool I was!" he murmured. "And yet I don't see how I could have helped it. I thought I could have managed a couple of opium pipes without getting into such a state. And the worst of it is that the night was wasted. By the way, I wonder if the night really was wasted. Perhaps I shall recollect something that will put me on the right track. And, by Jove, I've forgotten all about Mercer. Has he been here to-day, or has he been busy with his own affairs? It is maddening to cut time to waste like this. The best thing I can do is to see Uzali."

Russell's naturally strong constitution had asserted itself by now. He even felt ready to undertake another adventure. And time was pressing, too, for he had more or less wasted the last few weeks in London, on his way home from Borneo, and his supply of money was getting very low. He was thinking of putting on his hat and coat when the landlady came to the door of the sitting-room with the information that somebody desired to see him.

"Send him up," Russell said casually.

"I suppose it is all right, sir," the landlady said dubiously. "I suppose you are capable of taking care of yourself. The person downstairs is not quite the sort of man one cares about having on the front door-step. Still, sir——"

Russell waved his hand impatiently and the landlady disappeared.

She came back presently followed by a tall figure in the last stages of dilapidation. The man had seen better days, for his black frock suit had been well cut and his boots were not without a reminiscence of Bond Street. Now he was shiny and seedy to the last degree; a mass of dirty, greasy hair hung over his shoulders, and the top hat which he held gingerly between his thumb and forefinger had lost most of its colour and shape. It was plain what had brought the man to this pass, for the facts were written in his bleary eyes and shaky fingers. He glanced uneasily at Russell as if somewhat doubtful as to his reception. The latter rose and motioned his visitor to a chair. Then he closed the door carefully.