Nostalgo made no reply for a moment; he seemed to be thinking about something else. His varying moods had not been lost upon Jack. He was stern and silent, then again happy and cheerful, and once more grim and sardonic. If he did not care to speak now, Jack had no desire to press him. He felt quite sure that the stranger had taken a liking to him, or he would not be enjoying his present novel situation. Nostalgo broke the silence at length as if he had suddenly realized that he was not alone.
"You have not traveled much, I presume?" he asked.
"No," Jack replied. "Only the usual Continental trips and all that kind of thing. Mine has been a very prosaic life up to now, and I have never found myself in the heart of a great adventure before. Now it seems to me as if I were going to have enough mystery to last me forever."
"Ah, as Shakespeare says, 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy.' Had you lived my life, and knew the world as I know it, you would not be astonished at anything. Probably if you had read what I have told you in a novel, of the sensational kind, you would have pitched the book aside with a laugh of contempt. And now, confess it, have you ever heard before of a decadent modern man walking about in a mail shirt and being plugged by mysterious bullets, and all this in the streets of London?"
"Well, I confess that it does seem a little strange and outlandish," Jack admitted. "But when I come to think of it, and when I look at you, I can no longer hesitate. Some men are born for picturesqueness and adventure, and you are one of them. But all the same the doctor was utterly deceived."
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
SERENA AGAIN.
Nostalgo smiled and shook his head. The doctor had not made an examination of him at all; and he explained he had simply given him a cursory glance and pronounced that the whole thing had been fatal. No doubt a thorough examination would have taken place later on, only that the victim had returned to his senses, and, having his own reasons for secrecy, had escaped by means of the overhead light in the mortuary.
"There you have the whole thing in a nutshell," he concluded. "It was fortunate for me that I knew exactly how to get away, for the simple reason that I had been keeping a close eye upon Anstruther's movements, and knew all about that hiding place in Montrose Place. To a certain extent I made my escape through Montrose Place. There is only one thing I find that is difficult of explanation. Now I know for a fact that Anstruther was otherwise engaged on the night of that murderous attack upon me. Who, then, was it who fired the bullet?"
"I think it is just possible I can enlighten you there," Jack said. "Did you ever chance to hear of a man called Padini?"