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An Eley's No. 2 is an excellent argument with gentlemen who can

twist steel pokers into knots. That and a tooth-brush are, I

think, all that we need."

At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for

Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove

for four or five miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a

perfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the

heavens. The trees and wayside hedges were just throwing out

their first green shoots, and the air was full of the pleasant

smell of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strange

contrast between the sweet promise of the spring and this

sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companion sat in

the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down over

his eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the

deepest thought. Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the

shoulder, and pointed over the meadows.

"Look there!" said he.