And on that, plunging desperately into the story which I have here set down, I narrated the difficulties under which I had raised my escort, the manner in which I came to be robbed of the gold token, how mademoiselle was trepanned, the lucky chance by which I found her again, and the final disappointment.

He listened, but listened throughout with no word of sympathy--rather with impatience, which grew at last into derisive incredulity.

When I had done he asked me bluntly what I called myself.
Scarcely understanding what he meant, I repeated my name.
He answered, rudely and flatly, that it was impossible.

I do not believe it, sir!' he repeated, his brow dark.

'You are not the man.