reminds me that I think your friend knew him, sir. Leastways, the last day your friend was here I remember that old Mr. Palkeney drove up in his carriage and gave me a parcel for him—I helped him to pack that parcel in one of the cases I'd bought for him."
"You've an excellent memory," I remarked.
"Oh, well, one thinks of things, sir," he answered. "Faces, now, sir, they stir your memory up, don't you think? And I've seen some remarkable faces in my time—faces that you'd remember twenty years after. Some faces, of course, is that ordinary that you never notice 'em. But others———"
At that moment Parslewe put his face through the swing door behind us, and seeing the hall-porter on the steps came out. He had a letter in his hand. Coming to the hall-porter he waved the letter towards the west end of the Market Place.
"Isn't Sir Charles Sperrigoe's office just round that corner?" he asked. "Aye? Well, just go and put this note into his letter box, will you? Then he'll get it first thing in the morning. Go now, there's a good fellow!" He turned to me when the man
