I was the more startled, too, when my foreign acquaintance (about whom I really knew very little) abruptly quitted me to accost the new comers.  But this gave me breathing time.  The door was free, and so, leaving the refreshment I had ordered untouched, I bolted out of the house in much the same way as a thief might have done, and ran, as if for my life, right down the Alexandra Road until I reached Wareham’s office.  And there I seized the knocker in a frenzy, and made such a racket as might have awakened the dead.  The door suddenly opened, and I fell into the arms of Everson, Wareham’s managing clerk.

‘Great Scott!’ said he.  ’What is the matter?  You’ve nearly brought the house down!’

‘Shut the door!’ I replied.  ‘Shut the door!’

‘But what has happened to you?’

I had seated myself on the stairs, and a full minute went by before I could begin my story.  Then I told Everson all that had befallen me.  Some Frenchmen were on Zola’s track; they must be the very same men who had shadowed Wareham and myself from the Salisbury Hotel some nights previously; and now they were in Wimbledon, having heard, no doubt, that M. Zola had been seen there.  Wareham must be warned of it.  Every precaution must be taken; we must remove our charge from Oatlands, and so forth.

Everson puffed away at his pipe and listened meditatively.  At last he remarked, ’Well, it is a curious business if what you say is true.  What were these Frenchmen like?’

Forthwith I began to describe them as accurately as I could.  The first likeness I sketched must have been a faithful one, for Everson started, and exclaimed, ‘And the other.  Was he not so-and-so and so-and-so?’

‘Yes, he was.  But how do you know that?’ I rejoined, with considerable surprise.

’Why, because I know who the men are!  Although you saw them with Mr. Savage of the Raynes Park Hotel, it doesn’t follow that they are staying at Raynes Park.  As a matter of fact they live here in this very road.  They have been here I daresay, eight or nine months now.  And as for being detectives, my dear sir, they are musicians!’

‘You don’t mean it!’

I collapsed again.  To think that out of a mere chain of chance coincidences I should have forged a perfect melodramatic intrigue!  To think that I should have let my fancy run away with me in such a fashion, and have worked myself into such a state of nervousness and alarm!  I could not help feeling a trifle ashamed.  ‘Well,’ I pleaded, ’for my part, I had never seen the men before, either in Wimbledon or elsewhere.  Of course, I am short-sighted, and my eyes sometimes play me tricks; however, as you are sure—­’

‘Sure!’ repeated Everson; and again he described the men in such a way as to convince me that there was no mistake in the matter.  ‘Moreover,’ he added, ’I saw them go past the house this very morning when they went up to town.’

‘Well,’ I rejoined, ’I suppose I am losing my head.  Ten minutes ago I could have sworn that those men were after me.’