"No; I was fined in francs. I won't take advantage of you."
"I seem to be rather at sea," said Micklewright. "Have the French started air laws, and you broken 'em and been nabbed? But what were you doing in France?"
"Come and let's have some dinner," said Burton, putting his arm through his friend's. "I'm sure you don't eat enough. Any one will tell you that want of proper grub makes you dotty."
Micklewright locked up the laboratory, and went on with Burton to the house. Burton found his suit-case in the spare room and was glad to make a rapid toilet and change of clothes. In twenty minutes he was at one end of the dining-table, facing Micklewright at the other, and old Mrs. Jones was carrying in the soup. Burton waited, before beginning his story, until Micklewright had disposed of an excellent steak, and "looked more human," as he said; then--
"Since I saw you last, I've been to Ostend," he began.
"Jolly good oysters there," said Micklewright.
"Ah! You're sane at last! I didn't go for oysters, though; I went for--Hittite."
"You don't mean to say----" cried Micklewright.
"Don't be alarmed," Burton interrupted. "There's none there now. Just listen without putting your spoke in, will you!"
He related the incidents of his flights to Folkestone and Dover, his pursuit of the steamer, and the trick by which he had been taken on board.