wish, probably in defiance
of it, Nap was remaining for the operation itself. Suspicion deepened
swiftly to conviction, and a spasm of indignation akin to frenzy took
possession of the man. Doubtless Capper had remonstrated without result,
but he--he, Tawny Hudson--could compel. Fiercely he turned and pulled the
handle of the door.

It resisted him. He had not heard the key turned upon him, yet undeniably
the door was locked. Fury entered into him. Doubtless this also was the
work of his enemy. He seized the handle, twisted, dragged, wrenched, till
it broke in his hand and he was powerless.

No one within the room paid any attention to him. No one came to open;
and this fact served to inflame him further. For a few lurid moments
Tawny Hudson saw red. He gathered his huge bull-frame together and flung
the whole weight of it against the resisting wood. He was powerless to
force the lock, as the door opened towards him, but this fact did not
discourage him. It scarcely entered into his reckoning. He was nothing at
the moment but a savage beast beyond all reasoning and beyond control.

The panels resisted his violent onslaught, but he was undaunted. With
scarcely a pause he drew off and prepared for another. But at the very
instant that he was about to hurl himself the second time, a voice spoke
on the other side of the door.

"Tawny!"

Tawny stood as if transfixed, his eyes starting, bestial foam upon his
lips.

"Tawny!" said the voice again--the voice of his enemy, curt and
imperious. "Go and find Mr. Bertie, and tell him he is wanted."

Through the closed door the magic reached the frenzied man. He remained
motionless for a few seconds, but the order was not repeated. At the end
of the interval the magic had done its work. He turned and slunk away.

A minute later Bertie, very pale and stern, presented himself at the
closed door.

"What is it, Nap?"

Contemptuously clear came the answer. "Nothing here. Stay where you are,
that's all, and keep that all-fired fool Hudson from spoiling his
master's chances."

Bertie turned to look at the man who had come up behind him, and in
turning saw the door-handle at his feet.

He pointed to it. "Your doing?"

Hudson shrank under the accusing blue eyes so like his master's. He began
to whimper like a beaten dog.

Bertie picked up the knob. "Poor devil!" he muttered; and then aloud:
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Do you call this a man's game?"

Tawny cringed