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"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the

office, my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who

wished to see me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with

the name of 'Colonel Lysander Stark' engraved upon it. Close at

his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle

size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have

ever seen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose

and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over

his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his

natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was bright, his

step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but neatly

dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than

thirty.

"'Mr. Hatherley?' said he, with something of a German accent.

'You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man

who is not only proficient in his profession but is also discreet

and capable of preserving a secret.'