“Now,” said he, “I have something to tell you two.”

He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him.

“I suppose you reached Saville all right,” I said, anticipating.

“Seven at night,” said he, “and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward.  Then I took a train up to the main line.  An express came along.  ‘Why not go West?’ I asked myself, and I jumped aboard.  It was another whim—­you know I am subject to them.  When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy.  I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along.

“Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?”

“Charles Wrexell Allen,” cried Marian and I together.

The Celebrity looked surprised.  “How did you know?” he demanded.

“Go on with your story,” said Marian; “what did he do?”

“What did he do?” said the Celebrity; “why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet.  He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him.  ‘My dear fellow,’ said he, ’you did me the turn of my life.—­How can I ever repay you?’ ‘Hang your impudence,’ said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say.  ‘Don’t lose your temper, old chap,’ he laughed; ’you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn’t take some with yours.  Was there?  When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.’  ‘You took liberties with my name,’ I cried.  With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses.  ‘Now,’ said he, ’I’ve got a story for you.  Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave?  Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the “Miles Standish” agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn’t West.  So he sent me the papers, just for fun.  You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest.  I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think.  I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that.  You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you.  But I couldn’t be sure.  And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.’”

At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined.  Presently he continued: