"Your credentials are correct," continued the official, "and the Secretary of War has signed your passport. Please put your name here."
Hemming signed his name on the margin of the document, folded it, and stowed it in a waterproof pocketbook, and bowed himself out. He was about to close the door behind him when the official called him back.
"You forgot something, captain," said the young man, holding a packet made up of about half a dozen letters toward him.
"Not I," replied Hemming. He glanced at the letters, and read on the top one "Bertram St. Ives O'Rourke, Esq."
"O'Rourke," he exclaimed.
"How stupid of me," cried the young man.
"Where is he? When was he here?" inquired Hemming. "He is a particular friend of mine," he added.
The official considered for a second or two.
"Tall chap with a yellow face and a silk hat, isn't he?" he asked.
"Tall enough," replied Hemming, "but he had neither a yellow face nor a silk hat when I saw him last—that was in Jamaica, about a year ago."