CHAPTER VII.
A FRIEND IN NEED As Aubrey Treherne, on his way back from despatching the telegram, stood in the general entrance hall, fumbling with the latch-key at the door of his own flat, a tall young man in an ulster dashed up the wide stone stairs, rapidly read the names on the various brass plates, and arrived at Aubrey's just as his door had yielded to persuasion and was admitting him into his own small passage.
"Hullo," said a very British voice.

"Do you happen to be Ronald West's wife's cousin ?" Aubrey turned in the doorway, taking stock of his interlocutor.

He saw a well-knit, youthful figure, a keen resourceful face, and a pair of exceedingly bright brown eyes, unwavering in the steady penetration of their regard.

Already they had taken him in, from top to toe, and were looking past him in a rapid investigation of as much of his flat as could be seen from the doorway.
Aubrey was caught! He had fully intended muffling his electric bell, and not being at home to visitors.
But this brisk young man, with an atmosphere about him of always being ten minutes ahead of time, already had one of his very muddy boots inside the door, and eagerly awaited the answer to his question; so it was useless to reply to the latter in German, and to bang the former.
Therefore: "I have that honour," replied Aubrey, with the best grace he could muster.
"Ah! Well, I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I must have a word with you; and then I am going round to spend the night with Ronnie at his hotel." "Come in," said Aubrey, in a low voice; "but we must not talk in the passage or we shall wake him.

I saw he was not fit to be alone, so I sent to the hotel for his traps, and am putting him up here.