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Updated: June 26, 2025
'This Arab of yours, and his two friends, seem rather a curious lot, Mr Champnell. He passed the paper on to me. It took the form of a report. Lessingham and Sydney, regardless of forms and ceremonies, leaned over my shoulder as I read it. 'Passengers by 7.30 Southampton, on arrival of train, complained of noises coming from a compartment in coach 8964.
I will explain to you afterwards what is their exact import, but you know me sufficiently to be able to believe me when I say that they refer to a matter in which every moment is of the first importance. He turned and accompanied us into the interior of the booking- case. 'To which of the clerks, Mr Champnell, do you wish to put your questions?
On the contrary, I doubt if murder has been done. Indeed, I don't mind owning that I have a theory of my own which points all the other way. Lessingham caught me by the sleeve. 'Mr Champnell, tell me your theory. 'I will, a little later. Of course it may be altogether wrong; though I fancy it is not; I will explain my reasons when we come to talk of it.
I fancy, by his looks, that the official was struck by the pallor of the speaker's face, and by his tremulous voice. 'I am instructed to give certain information to a Mr Augustus Champnell. 'I am Mr Champnell. What's your information? 'With reference to the Arab about whom you have been making inquiries.
Crossing his legs, clasping his hands about his knee, he sat in silence for some moments, as if turning something over in his mind. He glanced round the room. 'I suppose, Mr Champnell, that some singular tales have been told in here. 'Some very singular tales indeed. I am never appalled by singularity. It is my normal atmosphere.
If what you say is correct, and the wretch to whom you allude really has Miss Lindon at her mercy, then the woman I love and whom you also pretend to love! stands in imminent peril not only of a ghastly death, but of what is infinitely worse than death. 'The deuce she does! Atherton wheeled round towards me. 'Champnell, haven't you got that dashed hat of yours yet?
He looked at me long and earnestly. Then, leaning forward, he said, lowering his voice perhaps unconsciously, 'The fact is, Mr Champnell, that quite recently events have happened which threaten to bridge the chasm of twenty years, and to place me face to face with that plague spot of the past.
You must, therefore, bear with me, Mr Champnell, if I seem awkward in disclosing to you certain incidents in my career which I had hoped would continue locked in the secret depository of my own bosom, at any rate till I was carried to the grave.
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