In the Fog | Page 4

a chair
toward him.
"The crime must be exceptional indeed," he said, "to justify the police
in interfering with a representative of a friendly power. If I were not
forced to leave at once, I should take the liberty of asking you to tell us
the details."

The gentleman with the pearl pushed the chair toward Sir Andrew, and
motioned him to be seated.
"You cannot leave us now," he exclaimed. "Mr. Sears is just about to
tell us of this remarkable crime."
He nodded vigorously at the naval officer and the American, after first
glancing doubtfully toward the servants at the far end of the room,
leaned forward across the table. The others drew their chairs nearer and
bent toward him. The baronet glanced irresolutely at his watch, and
with an exclamation of annoyance snapped down the lid. "They can
wait," he muttered. He seated himself quickly and nodded at Lieutenant
Sears.
"If you will be so kind as to begin, sir," he said impatiently.
"Of course," said the American, "you understand that I understand that
I am speaking to gentlemen. The confidences of this Club are inviolate.
Until the police give the facts to the public press, I must consider you
my confederates. You have heard nothing, you know no one connected
with this mystery. Even I must remain anonymous."
The gentlemen seated around him nodded gravely.
"Of course," the baronet assented with eagerness, "of course."
"We will refer to it," said the gentleman with the black pearl, "as 'The
Story of the Naval Attache.'"
"I arrived in London two days ago," said the American, "and I engaged
a room at the Bath Hotel. I know very few people in London, and even
the members of our embassy were strangers to me. But in Hong Kong I
had become great pals with an officer in your navy, who has since
retired, and who is now living in a small house in Rutland Gardens
opposite the Knights-bridge barracks. I telegraphed him that I was in
London, and yesterday morning I received a most hearty invitation to
dine with him the same evening at his house. He is a bachelor, so we
dined alone and talked over all our old days on the Asiatic Station, and

of the changes which had come to us since we had last met there. As I
was leaving the next morning for my post at Petersburg, and had many
letters to write, I told him, about ten o'clock, that I must get back to the
hotel, and he sent out his servant to call a hansom.
"For the next quarter of an hour, as we sat talking, we could hear the
cab whistle sounding violently from the doorstep, but apparently with
no result.
"'It cannot be that the cabmen are on strike,' my friend said, as he rose
and walked to the window.
"He pulled back the curtains and at once called to me.
"'You have never seen a London fog, have you?' he asked. 'Well, come
here. This is one of the best, or, rather, one of the worst, of them.' I
joined him at the window, but I could see nothing. Had I not known
that the house looked out upon the street I would have believed that I
was facing a dead wall. I raised the sash and stretched out my head, but
still I could see nothing. Even the light of the street lamps opposite, and
in the upper windows of the barracks, had been smothered in the yellow
mist. The lights of the room in which I stood penetrated the fog only to
the distance of a few inches from my eyes.
"Below me the servant was still sounding his whistle, but I could afford
to wait no longer, and told my friend that I would try and find the way
to my hotel on foot. He objected, but the letters I had to write were for
the Navy Department, and, besides, I had always heard that to be out in
a London fog was the most wonderful experience, and I was curious to
investigate one for myself.
"My friend went with me to his front door, and laid down a course for
me to follow. I was first to walk straight across the street to the brick
wall of the Knightsbridge Barracks. I was then to feel my way along
the wall until I came to a row of houses set back from the sidewalk.
They would bring me to a cross street. On the other side of this street
was a row of shops which I was to follow until they joined the iron
railings of Hyde Park. I was to keep to the railings until I reached the

gates at Hyde Park Corner, where I was to lay a