An Amiable Charlatan | Page 3

Parker sighed heavily.
"Do you mind, Walmsley, having my plate kept warm and reminding

the man that I ordered asparagus to follow?" my new friend remarked,
as he rose to his feet. "Mr. Cullen wants a word or two with me in
private, and Mr. Cullen is a man who will have his own way."
I nodded as indifferently as possible and the two men walked off
together toward the entrance. Then I summoned my waiter.
"Bring me," I ordered, "a fresh portion of chicken and order some
asparagus to follow. Keep my friend's chicken warm and order him
some asparagus also."
Leaning back in my chair I tried to puzzle out the probable meaning of
this somewhat extraordinary happening. My acquiescence in the
attitude that had been so suddenly forced upon me was owing entirely
to one circumstance. Mr. Joseph H. Parker I had recognized at his first
entrance as a regular _habitué_ of the restaurant. He was usually
accompanied by a young lady who, from the first moment I had seen
her, had produced an effect upon my not too susceptible disposition for
which I was wholly unable to account, but which was the sole reason
why I had given up my club and all other restaurants and occupied that
particular place for the last fortnight.
I had put the two down as an American and his daughter traveling in
England for pleasure; and my continual presence at the restaurant was
wholly inspired by the hope that some opportunity might arise by
means of which I could make their acquaintance. Adventures, in the
ordinary sense of the word, had never appealed to me. I was privileged
to possess many charming acquaintances among the other sex, but not
one of them had ever inspired me with anything save the most ordinary
feelings of friendship and admiration.
The opportunity I desired had now apparently come. I had made the
acquaintance of Mr. Joseph H. Parker--made it in an unceremonious
manner, perhaps, but still under circumstances that would probably
result in his being willing to acknowledge himself my debtor. I had a
packet of something belonging to him in my pocket, which was
presumably valuable. His friend, Mr. Cullen, I detested, and the
reference to Bow Street puzzled me. However, I had no doubt that in a

few minutes everything would be explained. Meantime I permitted
myself to indulge in certain very pleasurable anticipations.
In the course of about a quarter of an hour Mr. Joseph H. Parker
reappeared. He came down the room humming a tune and apparently
quite pleased with himself. I took the opportunity of studying his
personal appearance a little more closely. He was not tall, but he was
distinctly fat. He had a large double chin, but a certain freshness of
complexion and massiveness about his forehead relieved his face from
any suspicion of grossness. He had a large and humorous mouth,
delightful eyes and plentiful eyebrows. His iron-gray hair was brushed
carefully back from his forehead. He gave one the idea of strength,
notwithstanding the disabilities of his figure. He smiled contentedly as
he seated himself once more at my table.
"Really," he began, "I scarcely know how to excuse myself, Mr.
Walmsley. However, thanks to you, we can now dine in comfort. Until
now I fear I have taken your good offices very much for granted; but I
assure you it will give me the greatest pleasure to make your closer
acquaintance and to impress upon you my extreme sense of obligation."
"You are very kind," I replied. "By the by, might I ask how you know
my name?"
"My young friend," Mr. Parker said, eying with approval the fresh
portion of chicken that had been brought him, "it is my business to
know many things. I go about the world with my eyes and ears open.
Things that escape other people interest me. Your name is Mr. Paul
Walmsley. You are one of a class of men that practically doesn't exist
in America. You have no particular occupation that I know of, save that
you have a small estate in the country, which no doubt takes up some
of your time. You have rooms in London, which you occupy
occasionally. You probably write a little--I have noticed that you are
fond of watching people."
"You really seem to know a good deal about me," I confessed, a little
taken aback.

"I am not far from the mark, am I?"
"You are not," I admitted.
"As regards your lack of occupation," Mr. Parker went on, "I am not
the man to blame you for it. There are very few things in life a man can
settle down to nowadays. To a person of imagination the ordinary
routine of the professions and the ordinary curriculum of business life