“Yes, sir.”

“Do you fulfil the conditions which are there laid down?”

“I believe that I do.”

“You are a powerful man, or so I should judge from your appearance.”

“I think that I am fairly strong.”

“And resolute?”

“I believe so.”

“Have you ever known what it was to be exposed to imminent danger?”

“No, I don’t know that I ever have.”

“But you think you would be prompt and cool at such a time?”

“I hope so.”

“Well, I believe that you would. I have the more confidence in you
because you do not pretend to be certain as to what you would do in a
position that was new to you. My impression is that, so far as personal
qualities go, you are the very man of whom I am in search. That being
settled, we may pass on to the next point.”

“Which is?”

“To talk to me about beetles.”

I looked across to see if he was joking, but, on the contrary, he was
leaning eagerly forward across his desk, and there was an expression of
something like anxiety in his eyes. “I am afraid that you do not know about beetles,” he cried. “On the contrary, sir, it is the one scientific subject about which I
feel that I really do know something.”

“I am overjoyed to hear it. Please talk to me about beetles.”

I talked. I do not profess to have said anything original upon the
subject, but I gave a short sketch of the characteristics of the beetle,
and ran over the more common species, with some allusions to the
specimens in my own little collection and to the article upon “Burying
Beetles” which I had contributed to the _Journal of Entomological
Science_. “What! not a collector?” cried Lord Linchmere. “You don’t mean that you
are yourself a collector?” His eyes danced with pleasure at the thought. “You are certainly the very man in London for my purpose. I thought that
among five millions of people there must be such a man, but the
difficulty is to lay one’s hands upon him. I have been extraordinarily
fortunate in finding you.”

He rang a gong upon the table, and the footman entered. “Ask Lady Rossiter to have the goodness to step this way,” said his
lordship, and a few moments later the lady was ushered into the room. She was a small, middle-aged woman, very like Lord Linchmere in
appearance, with the same quick, alert features and grey-black hair. The
expression of anxiety, however, which I had observed upon his face was
very much more marked upon hers. Some great grief seemed to have cast
its shadow over her features. As Lord Linchmere presented me she turned
her face full upon me, and I was shocked to observe a half-healed scar
extending for two inches over her right eyebrow. It was partly concealed
by plaster, but none the less I could see that it had been a serious
wound and not long inflicted. “Dr. Hamilton is the very man for our purpose, Evelyn,” said Lord
Linchmere. “He is actually a collector of beetles, and he has written
articles upon the subject.”

“Really!” said Lady Rossiter. “Then you must have heard of my husband. Every one who knows anything about beetles must have heard of Sir Thomas
Rossiter.”

For the first time a thin little ray of light began to break into the
obscure business. Here, at last, was a connection between these people
and beetles. Sir Thomas Rossiter—he was the greatest authority upon the
subject in the world. He had made it his life-long study, and had
written a most exhaustive work upon it. I hastened to assure her that I
had read and appreciated it. “Have you met my husband?” she asked. “No, I have not.”

“But you shall,” said Lord Linchmere, with decision. The lady was standing beside the desk, and she put her hand upon his
shoulder. It was obvious to me as I saw their faces together that they
were brother and sister. “Are you really prepared for this, Charles? It is noble of you, but you
fill me with fears.” Her voice quavered with apprehension, and he
appeared to me to be equally moved, though he was making strong efforts
to conceal his agitation. “Yes, yes, dear; it is all settled, it is all decided; in fact, there is
no other possible way, that I can see.”

“There is one obvious way.”

“No, no, Evelyn, I shall never abandon you—never. It will come
right—depend upon it; it will come right, and surely it looks like the
interference of Providence that so perfect an instrument should be put
into our hands.”

My position was embarrassing, for I felt that for the instant they had
forgotten my presence. But Lord Linchmere came back suddenly to me and
to my engagement. “The business for which I want you, Dr. Hamilton, is that you should put
yourself absolutely at my disposal. I wish you to come for a short
journey with me, to remain always at my side, and to promise to do
without question whatever I may ask you, however unreasonable it may
appear to you to be.”

“That is a good deal to ask,” said I. “Unfortunately I cannot put it more plainly, for I do not myself know
what turn matters may take. You may be sure, however, that you will not
be asked to do anything which your conscience does not approve; and I
promise you that, when all is over, you will be proud to have been
concerned in so good a work.”

“If it ends happily,” said the lady. “Exactly; if it ends happily,” his lordship repeated. “And terms?” I asked. “Twenty pounds a day.”

I was amazed at the sum, and must have showed my surprise upon my
features. “It is a rare combination of qualities, as must have struck you when you
first read the advertisement,” said Lord Linchmere; “such varied gifts
may well command a high return, and I do not conceal from you that your
duties might be arduous or even dangerous. Besides, it is possible that
one or two days may bring the matter to an end.”

“Please God!” sighed his sister. “So now, Dr. Hamilton, may I rely upon your aid?”

“Most undoubtedly,” said I. “You have only to tell me what my duties
are.”

“Your first duty will be to return to your home. You will pack up
whatever you may need for a short visit to the country. We start
together from Paddington Station at 3.40 this afternoon.”

“Do we go far?”

“As far as Pangbourne. Meet me at the bookstall at 3.30. I shall have
the tickets. Good-bye, Dr. Hamilton! And, by the way, there are two
things which I should be very glad if you would bring with you, in case
you have them. One is your case for collecting beetles, and the other is
a stick, and the thicker and heavier the better.”

                  *       *       *       *       *

You may imagine that I had plenty to think of from the time that I left
Brook Street until I set out to meet Lord Linchmere at Paddington. The
whole fantastic business kept arranging and re-arranging itself in
kaleidoscopic forms inside my brain, until I had thought out a dozen
explanations, each of them more grotesquely improbable than the last. And yet I felt that the truth must be something grotesquely improbable
also. At last I gave up all attempts at finding a solution, and
contented myself with exactly carrying out the instructions which I had
received.