Varney, little knowing what was to come out of this chance acquaintance, soon established common grounds of interest. His mother had been an Italian, and he had spent ten years of his boyhood in that delightful land. He could speak the language like a native. Janson, who was a poor linguist, expressed his envy of the other’s accomplishment.
“I can read any Italian book you put before me, and I can make them understand what I want,” he had told Varney. “But when they talk to me, I am lost. I can’t catch the words, because the accent baffles me. If an Englishman were to talk Italian, I daresay I could follow him.”
They met several times afterwards, and the acquaintance ripened to such an extent that the doctor asked the young stranger to come round to his house, after the day’s round was over, for a chat and a smoke. Janson was a bachelor; he had only been a few months in the neighbourhood, and had not as yet made many friends.
A man who knew a good deal about the subject which interested him most, and could talk fairly well on art—for Varney was a connoisseur of no mean order—was a godsend to the man of medicine, sitting by himself in his lonely house.
All this was the prelude to the startling facts which were the cause of Varney’s urgent telegram.
The previous morning just before his dinner hour, the gardener had looked in at the inn for his morning glass of beer, and informed the landlord that a visitor was expected at Forest View.
“Mr Strange comes to me after breakfast, and tells me to take in a picking of some special peas we planted, for lunch. He ain’t much of a one to talk at the best of times, but he was quite affable and chatty this morning. He tells me he is expecting a foreign gentleman who’s very particular about his food, and he wants to show him what we can do.”
This piece of news was retailed to Varney, who was, of course, immediately interested. According to local report, this was only the second occasion on which Forest View had received a visitor.
He kept a hidden watch on the house. A few minutes past twelve. Strange, to give him the name he was known by down there, drove his motor-car in the direction of Horsham. Evidently he was going to meet the visitor at the station.
In due course the car came back with its two occupants. The stranger was a man of small stature, with grey moustache and beard, of a dark complexion, and unmistakably a foreigner.