“How on earth did you find me?” demanded Peter, as the two the Cloud together, Democritus following in the rear.  
“By the guidance of Providence,” announced Tommy. “It’s been the oddest search imaginable, and if it hadn’t been for that blessed peacock feather I’ll dare swear it had been fruitless. It was a kind of , the one characteristic by which you had been noticed.”
 
Peter laughed. He was at the moment , happy. So can fate play shuttlecock with our lives.
 
At the hut door Tommy had given him the barest outline of the story, sufficient only to persuade Peter that he was indeed in accompanying the Tommy down the mountain-side. Now he elaborated those details, entered into the most history of the last three weeks. And the story of Hugh’s filled Peter with a curious . He saw, as Father O’Sullivan had seen, the fine way, the grand way, in which the past had been out and his friend given back to him in spirit.
 
Tommy strode down the mountain of heart, his honest face fairly shining with pleasure. His whole further programme was already arranged—the wires to be sent, the breakfast to be eaten, the train to be caught that was to convey them swiftly back to town. The car and could follow at their leisure.
 
Here, however, Peter . It was all very well to tramp the road in this ridiculous , but return to as a mountebank—never! There were some things at which Peter drew the line, and he drew one here, and firmly. Tommy was prepared for him; he met and overruled each and every objection. Had Peter no other garments in that bundle he was carrying? What! only a dress suit? Tommy opened eyes of wonder. What on earth was the use of a dress suit to a ? Oh, of course, it was Peter’s own business if he liked to carry one [Pg 298]around the country in a bundle on his back for the pleasure of boasting to his soul that he one. No, of course he couldn’t wear it up to town. Tommy didn’t propose that he should. But he—Tommy—had another suit at the hotel. Peter was much of his build; he’d take him to his room to change. During the process he’d dispatch telegrams. Then, Tommy presumed, he’d be allowed to have his breakfast, after which the train. He was on that point. Yes, Peter could have a bath if he liked—fifty baths, as long as he agreed to take the train at noon.
 
Thus planning, arranging, the hotel was reached. Tommy escorted Peter to his room, indicated a change of raiment and the bathroom opposite, then, bursting with excitement, proceeded to find the chauffeur and dispatch telegrams. Within ten minutes—such was his celerity of action—he was in the dining-room, had ordered a substantial breakfast, and was waiting with what patience he might for the appearance of Peter.
 
Peter, in the bathroom, was luxuriating in a sea............