'Hollo!' he exclaimed, 'what have we here?'
Two persons were within. One, a priest of the Roman Catholic Church, was taking his ease in an armchair, the other was kneeling in front of him with his hands held up to his face. At the sound of the opening door this person withdrew his hands, and turned. It was the Marquis of Twickenham.
Mr. Merrett stared at him with every appearance of the most profound amazement. He plucked off his hat.
'I--I--I'm sure I beg pardon, but are you the Marquis of Twickenham?'
'I am.'
'D--d--d--does your lordship know how much you are like me?'
The man on his knees was still. The priest stood up; a fine, steady figure; in striking contrast to the abject creature at his feet. He regarded Mr. Merrett with twinkling eyes.
'There certainly is a resemblance. Is it to that fact that we are indebted for the pleasure of your presence, unannounced?'
'Well, I was told that there was a gentleman here who was so like me that father got taking me for him; and as this was promising to become inconvenient, I thought I'd come and see.'
'And having seen?'