' He debated, therefore, whether he should hasten away
toward his car, or stand by in case his assistance should be needed.
Being a kind-hearted man, who believed in his capacity for putting
things to rights, and noticing a certain delicacy--a "sort of something
rather distinguished," as he phrased it afterwards--in the old fellow's
face and figure, he decided to see if he could be of any service. They
walked along together, Mr. Purcey watching his new friend askance, and
directing the march to where he had ordered his chauffeur to await him.
"You are very fond of birds, I suppose," he said cautiously.
"The birds are our brothers."
The answer was of a nature to determine Mr. Purcey in his diagnosis of
the case.
"I've got my car here," he said. "Let me give you a lift home."
This new but aged acquaintance did not seem to hear; his lips moved as
though he were following out some thought.
"In those days," Mr. Purcey heard him say, "the congeries of men were
known as rookeries. The expression was hardly just towards that handsome
bird."
Mr. Purcey touched him hastily on the arm.
"I've got my car here, sir," he said. "Do let me put you down!"
Telling the story afterwards, he had spoken thus:
"The old chap knew where he lived right enough; but dash me if I believe
he noticed that I was taking him there in my car--I had the A.
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