“Moustache?”

“Yes, and waxed.  Got a sort of broad-arrow on his cheek, and looked at ye as if ’is eyes was gimlets, and he wanted to bore a hole through yer; called at seven, breakfast at half-past, ’am and eggs and two cups of corfee and a roll, all took up to ’im in ’is room.  Ordered a cab to catch the nine o’clock express to Southampton.  I puts ’im in with his bag and blanket, and says, ‘Kindly remember the boots, sir,’ and he says, ‘I’ve done it,’ I said I ’adn’t ’ad it, and he told me to go to ------, well the place as isn’t mentioned in perlite company.  That’s all I know about ’im.”

He paused and shook his head in the direction of the bar, after which he observed that he knew all about it, and one or two other things beside.

I gave him a shilling for his information and then left the house.  Once more I had missed Gideon Hayle by a few minutes, but I had received some information that might help me to find him again.  Unfortunately, however, he was now well on his way to Southampton, and in a few hours might be out of England.  My respect for that astute gentleman was increasing hourly, but it did not deter me, only made me the more resolved to beat him in the end.  Making my way to Waterloo, I inquired when the next train left for Southampton.  Finding that I had more than an hour and a half to wait, I telegraphed to the man I had sent to Southampton to watch the docks, and then took the electric railway to the city, and made my way to my office, where a pile of correspondence awaited me on my table.  Calling my managing clerk to my assistance, I set to work to examine it.  He opened the letters while I perused them and dictated the various replies.  When he came to the fifth he uttered an exclamation of surprise.

“What is it?” I inquired.  “Anything wrong?”

In reply he handed me a letter written on good note-paper, but without an address.  It ran as follows—­

“Mr. Gideon Hayle returns thanks for kind inquiries, and begs to inform Mr. Fairfax that he is leaving England to-day for Algiers.”

“If he thinks he is going to bluff me with that sort of tale, he’s very much mistaken,” I said.  “I happen to be aware of the fact that he left for Southampton by the nine o’clock train this morning.  If I might hazard a guess as to where he was going, I should say that his destination is the Cape.  But let him go where he will, I’ll have him yet.  In the meantime, send Williams to Charing Cross at once, Roberts to Victoria, and Dickson to St. Paul’s.  Furnish each with a description of the man they are to look after, be particular about the scar upon his left cheek, and if they see him, tell them that they are not to lose sight of him, happen what may.  Let them telegraph should they discover anything definite, and then go in pursuit.  In any case I shall return from Southampton to-night, and shall call here at once.”

Half-an-hour later I arrived at Waterloo, took my ticket and boarded the train for Southampton.  When I reached the port I was met at the station by my representative, who informed me that he had seen nothing of the man I had described, although he had carefully looked for him.