His room in Great Russell Street seemed to have suffered neglect during his absence; his return was unexpected; everything seemed unhomely and unwelcoming.  The great front of the British Museum frowned, as if to express disapproval of such aimless running hither and thither in one who should be spending his days soberly and strenuously:  even the pigeons walked or flew with balance of purpose, with English respectability.  It seemed to have rained all day; the evening sky was heavy and featureless.

The landlady presented herself.  She was grieved exceedingly that she had not known of Mr. Egremont’s coming, but everything should be made comfortable in less than no time.  He would have a fire?  To be sure; it was a little chilly, though really ’summer has come upon us all at a jump, whilst you’ve been away, sir.’

’I got your telegram, sir, that I wasn’t to send any letters on.  Gentlemen have called and I—­’

‘Indeed?  Who has called?’

’Why, sir, on the day after you went—­I dare say it was nine o’clock in the evening, or a little later—­someone came, wishing very much to see you.  He wouldn’t give a name.  I don’t think it was a gentleman; it seemed like somebody coming on business.  He was very anxious to have your address.  Of course I didn’t give it.  I just said that any note he liked to leave should be forwarded at once.’

‘A dark man, with a beard?  A working man?’

’No doubt the one you’re thinking of, sir.  He called again—­let me see, four or five days after.’

‘Called again?  Then it couldn’t be the man I mean.’

He entered into a fuller description of Gilbert Grail.  The landlady identified the caller as Grail beyond all doubt.

‘What day was it?’

’Why, sir, it ‘ud be Wednesday; yes, Wednesday.’

‘H’m!  And you told him I had left Jersey?’

‘Yes, sir.  He said he knew that, and that—­’

‘Said he knew it?’ repeated Egremont, astonished.

‘Yes, sir, and that he wished to see if you had got home again.’

‘Has he been since?’

’No, sir, but—­I was coming in a night or two after, sir, and I saw him standing on the opposite side of the way, looking at the house.  He hadn’t called, however, and he didn’t again.’

Egremont bent his eyes on the ground, and delayed a moment before asking: 

‘Who else has been?’

’A gentleman; I don’t know who it was.  The servant went to the door.  He said he only wished to know if you were in town or not.  He wouldn’t leave a name.’

Egremont’s face changed to annoyance.  He did not care to pursue the subject.

‘Let me have something to eat, please,’ he said.

The landlady having withdrawn, he at once sat down to his desk and wrote a note.  It was to Grail, and ran in substance: 

’I am just back from the Continent.  Am I right in thinking that it is you who have called here twice in my absence?  If so, your second call was at a time when I hoped you were out of London.  Do let me see you as soon as possible.  Of course you received my letter from Jersey?  Shall I come to you, or will you come here?  I will stay in to-night.  I send this by a messenger, as I wish you to receive it immediately.’