He leaned forward upon the settle, his legs crossed and his hands upon his knees.
“Now,” he proceeded, “I leave it to you as a gentleman of wide experience and much service, to pass judgment upon what I am about to say.”
The adventurer unhooked his thumbs from his sword belt and twirled his moustache. He said nothing in reply; but there was a sardonic look in his face.
“I,” and Pennington tapped his chest, “am the person whom your young friend here,” with a nod toward Ezra, “was to inquire for. I acknowledge it.”
“It’s overlate for frankness,” said Gilbert Scarlett, grimly. “But, go on.”
“I am able to say in perfect good faith,” went on Pennington, “that I had no expectation of seeing him. Neither had I any notion that he knew anything of the affairs of Abdallah. As for my failure to acknowledge a connection with the story which you told me a while ago, you surely can feel no resentment for that. When a man is engaged in”—he paused and shrugged his shoulders—“well, in work of a more or less secret character, it is not quite safe for him to speak freely with strangers.”
The adventurer unbent his brows and his face altered in expression.
“Now,” said he, “that is talk that holds much sense. It is clear to me that you could not do other than you did.”
Then he turned to Ezra once more.
“Chance and circumstance seem to have taken you for their very own,” said he.