His moustache was upturned, and his hair was trimmed closer than is the custom amongst Englishmen.

Laverick stooped lower and lower until he found himself almost on his knees.

There was something projecting from the man's pocket as though it had been half snatched out--a large portfolio of brown leather, almost the size of a satchel.

Laverick drew it out, holding it in one hand whilst with firm fingers he struck another match.

Then, for the first time, a little cry broke from his lips.