quired.

"So practical!" Philippa murmured. "As a matter of fact, I heard some
one moving about, and I rang the alarm bell. Mills was downstairs
almost directly and we heard some one running down the drive. The French
windows were open, a chair was overturned in the library, and a drawer
in my husband's desk was wide open."

"The proof," Lessingham admitted, "is overwhelming. You were visited by
a burglar. Does your husband keep anything of value in his desk?"

"Henry hasn't anything of value in the world," Philippa replied drily,
"except his securities, and they are at the bank."

"Without going so far as to contradict you," Lessingham observed, with a
smile, "I still venture to disagree!"

CHAPTER XI

Sir Henry stepped back from the scales and eyed the fish which they had
been weighing, admiringly.

"You see that, Mills? You see that, Jimmy?" he pointed out. "Six and
three-quarter pounds! I was right almost to an ounce. He's a fine
fellow!"

"A very extraordinary fish, sir," the butler observed. "Will you allow
me to take your oilskins? Dinner was served nearly an hour ago."

Sir Henry slipped off his dripping overalls and handed them over.

"That's all right," he replied. "Listen. Don't say a word about my
arrival to your mistress at present. I have some writing to do. Bring
me a glass of sherry at once, or mix a cocktail if you can do so without
being missed, and take Jimmy away and give him some whisky and soda."

"But what about your own dinner, sir?"

"I'll have a tray in the gun room," his master decided, "say in twenty
minutes' time. And, Mills, who did you say were dining?"

"Two of the young officers from the Depot, sir--Mr. Harrison and Mr.
Sinclair--and Mr. Hamar Lessingham."

"Lessingham, eh?" Sir Henry repeated, as he seated himself before his
writing-table. "Mills," he added, in a confidential whisper, "what port
did you serve?"

The butler's expression was one of conscious rectitude.

"Not the vintage, sir," he announced with emphasis. "Some very excellent
wood port, which we procured for shooting luncheons. The young gentlemen
like it."

"You're a jewel, Mills," his master declared. "Now you understand--an
aperitif for me now, some whisky for Jimmy in your room, and not a word
about my being here. Good night, Jimmy. Sorry we were too late for the
mackerel, but we had some grand sport, all the same. You'll have a day
or two's rest ashore now."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Dumble replie