“Among a thousand! He had a funny look, and never spoke. Just shoved a penny out whenever I came on top. Twice I had to refuse it.”
“Was he a foreigner?”
“Not to my idea. He looked like a Scotchman. Don’t you know him, sir?”
“Not yet. I hope to make his acquaintance. Can you remember the ’bus which was in front of you at Whitehall at 10.45?”
“Yes; I can tell you that. It was a Monster, Pimlico. The conductor is a friend of mine, named Tomkins. That is the only time I have seen him to-day.”
At the Monster, Pimlico, after another delay, Tomkins was produced. Again Brett described David Hume, adorned now with “black, snaky eyes and high cheek-bones.”
“Of course,” said Tomkins. “I’ve spotted ’im. ’E came aboard wiv a run just arter a hoss fell in front of the statoo. Gimme a penny, ’e did, an’ jumped orf at the ’Orse Guards without a ticket afore we ’ad gone a ’undred yards. I thort ’e was frightened or dotty, I did. Know ’im agin? Ra—ther. Eyes like gimlets, ’e ’ad.”
The barrister regained the seclusion of the hansom.
“St John’s Mansions, Kensington,” he said to the driver, and then he curled up on the seat in the most uncomfortable attitude permitted by the construction of the vehicle.
On nearing his destination he stopped the cab at a convenient corner.