'I confess,' he said, 'that I cannot understand why those people should be a hindrance; nevertheless, I am ready to believe that your reason is good and sufficient.'
'Thank you.'
'I trust,' he hastened to add, 'that you will judge me as generously when I say that I cannot oblige you. I know the name of the lady, it is true; but, much as I may desire to serve you, I cannot do so. My desire to avoid the lady, to remain unrecognised by her, is as strong as is yours to hold aloof from her escort. It's an odd position,' he added, with a slow half-smile. 'I trust the contents of Miss—of the bag were not of too great value—not indispensable to her?'
'By no means—quite the contrary; and this being the case, we will trouble ourselves no more about it. Of course I can't urge my request under the circumstances.' I could not repress a smile at the absurdity of the situation. 'And to say that I don't bear malice, as they say in making up a quarrel, let us exchange cards.' I produced my card, a simple pasteboard of the size known as the visiting-card, and with only my name engraved across it.
The guard drew back a step, and again that ready flush dyed his face.
'Pardon me. You are addressing me as one gentleman to another, and if I were to give you the name by which I am known here it would not be my true one. I will not give you a fictitious name, and—I can give no other.'
I was silent a moment, then—'I will not urge you,' I said; 'but at least, as man and man, equals, we can shake bands.' And I held out my own.
His face cleared instantly, and he promptly placed his palm upon mine.
'I can do that,' he said, 'as man to man, as an equal, and'—he threw back his handsome head—'I shall never, I trust, have reason to hesitate before giving my hand as an honest man to an honest man; and now——' He paused, and I with him.
'And now,' I supplemented, 'we are neither of us idlers. This is your beat?'