“Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office, my

clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see me upon

business. He brought up a card, too, with the name of ‘Colonel Lysander

Stark’ engraved upon it. Close at his heels came the colonel himself, a

man rather over the middle size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think

that I have ever seen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose

and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over his outstanding

bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no

disease, for his eye was bright, his step brisk, and his bearing assured. He

was plainly but neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer

forty than thirty.


“‘Mr. Hatherley?’ said he, with something of a German

accent. ‘You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man

who is not only proficient in his profession but is also discreet and capable

of preserving a secret.’


“I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an address.

‘May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?’


“‘Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that

just at this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both an orphan

and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.’


“‘That is quite correct,’ I answered; ‘but you

will excuse me if I say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my

professional qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter

that you wished to speak to me?’


“‘Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really

to the point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy is

quite essential—absolute secrecy, you understand, and of course we may

expect that more from a man who is alone than from one who lives in the bosom

of his family.’


“‘If I promise to keep a secret,’ said I, ‘you