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'Heard you were lost, my dear boy, and scarcely a possible chance of ever seeing you again; private detectives, and all that kind of thing, hunting for you all over the globe--been to Australia after you, some one said, and didn't find you there.'

'No,' said Uffington, with a slight smile. 'I had been in Australia, but when the agent went out there to search for me I was living in a little place in Brittany, where there was wonderful sport, but where I never saw an English newspaper, not even Galignani; and even if I had seen the announcement of poor young Mark's death, I doubt whether I should have felt any impulse to hurry over here and claim his place.'

'Do you act upon impulse?' asked Tom Lydyeard.

'Always,' said Langton quickly. 'Three weeks ago the impulse seized me, and I came over here; and,' he added, shrugging his shoulders drearily, 'it looks as if in a very short time it would seize me again, and send me off to the uttermost ends of the earth.'

'You don't know many people here?' said Tom Lydyeard, observing his friend's eyes wandering round the house.