I saw at a glance that the latter suspected nothing; and it was characteristic of him that he began by questioning me about my finds, and only afterward turned to reproach Archie for having been back a week without notifying him.

“You know I’m up to my neck in this job.  Why in the world didn’t you hunt me up before this?”

The question was exasperating, and I could understand Archie’s stammer of wrath.

“Hunt you up?  Hunt you up?  What the deuce are you made of, to ask me such a question instead of wondering why I’m here now?”

Dredge bent his slow calm scrutiny on his friend’s quivering face; then he turned to me.

“What’s the matter?” he said simply.

“The matter?” shrieked Archie, his clenched fist hovering excitedly above the desk by which he stood; but Dredge, with unwonted quickness, caught the fist as it descended.

“Careful—­I’ve got a Kallima in that jar there.”  He pushed a chair forward, and added quietly:  “Sit down.”

Archie, ignoring the gesture, towered pale and avenging in his place; and Dredge, after a moment, took the chair himself.

“The matter?” Archie reiterated with rising passion.  “Are you so lost to all sense of decency and honour that you can put that question in good faith?  Don’t you really know what’s the matter?”

Dredge smiled slowly.  “There are so few things one really knows.”

“Oh, damn your scientific hair-splitting!  Don’t you know you’re insulting my father’s memory?”

Dredge stared again, turning his spectacles thoughtfully from one of us to the other.

“Oh, that’s it, is it?  Then you’d better sit down.  If you don’t see at once it’ll take some time to make you.”

Archie burst into an ironic laugh.

“I rather think it will!” he conceded.

“Sit down, Archie,” I said, setting the example; and he obeyed, with a gesture that made his consent a protest.

Dredge seemed to notice nothing beyond the fact that his visitors were seated.  He reached for his pipe, and filled it with the care which the habit of delicate manipulations gave to all the motions of his long, knotty hands.

“It’s about the lectures?” he said.

Archie’s answer was a deep scornful breath.

“You’ve only been back a week, so you’ve only heard one, I suppose?”

“It was not necessary to hear even that one.  You must know the talk they’re making.  If notoriety is what you’re after—­”

“Well, I’m not sorry to make a noise,” said Dredge, putting a match to his pipe.

Archie bounded in his chair.  “There’s no easier way of doing it than to attack a man who can’t answer you!”

Dredge raised a sobering hand.  “Hold on.  Perhaps you and I don’t mean the same thing.  Tell me first what’s in your mind.”

The request steadied Archie, who turned on Dredge a countenance really eloquent with filial indignation.