But he looked at me with the straight gaze of an honest man.

“That is right,” said he, “but the ship went from Dunkirk, and this is one of her boats.  The crew got away in the long boat, and she went down so quickly that I had no time to put anything into her.  That was on Monday.”

“And to-day’s Thursday.  You have been three days without bite or sup.”

“It is too long,” said he.  “Twice before I have been for two days, but never quite so long as this.  Well, I shall leave my boat here, and see whether I can get lodgings in any of these little grey houses upon the hillsides.  Why is that great fire burning over yonder?”

“It is one of our neighbours who has served against the French.  He is rejoicing because peace has been declared.”

“Oh, you have a neighbour who has served then!  I am glad; for I, too, have seen a little soldiering here and there.”

He did not look glad, but he drew his brows down over his keen eyes.

“You are French, are you not?” I asked, as we all walked up the hill together, he with his black bag in his hand and his long blue cloak slung over his shoulder.

“Well, I am of Alsace,” said he; “and, you know, they are more German than French.  For myself, I have been in so many lands that I feel at home in all.  I have been a great traveller; and where do you think that I might find a lodging?”

I can scarcely tell now, on looking back with the great gap of five-and-thirty years between, what impression this singular man had made upon me.  I distrusted him, I think, and yet I was fascinated by him also; for there was something in his bearing, in his look, and his whole fashion of speech which was entirely unlike anything that I had ever seen.  Jim Horscroft was a fine man, and Major Elliott was a brave one, but they both lacked something that this wanderer had.  It was the quick alert look, the flash of the eye, the nameless distinction which is so hard to fix.  And then we had saved him when he lay gasping upon the shingle, and one’s heart always softens towards what one has once helped.

“If you will come with me,” said I, “I have little doubt that I can find you a bed for a night or two, and by that time you will be better able to make your own arrangements.”

He pulled off his hat, and bowed with all the grace imaginable.  But Jim Horscroft pulled me by the sleeve, and led me aside.

“You’re mad, Jock,” he whispered.  “The fellow’s a common adventurer.  What do you want to get mixed up with him for?”

But I was as obstinate a man as ever laced his boots, and if you jerked me back it was the finest way of sending me to the front.

“He’s a stranger, and it’s our part to look after him,” said I.

“You’ll be sorry for it,” Said he.

“Maybe so.”

“If you don’t think of yourself, you might think of your cousin.”

“Edie can take very good care of herself.”