e beaming. "And so
your brother is freed at last. Only heard the news when I landed from
Norway a week ago. I congratulate you with my whole heart. I never was
so glad about anything before." And Lord John sawed Wentworth's limp
hand up and down.

"I was present, you know," he went on. "Made a great impression on me.
Sobered me for a long time I can tell you. I saw Carstairs come forward
and give himself up. Never had such a shock in my life."

"I remember now you were there."

"Rather. And I was dead certain from the first that he had never done
it. I always said so. And now at last the mystery is cleared up. And I
was proved right. He hadn't. But fancy shielding that old Marchesa with
her long teeth. Why, she was forty if she was a day. Who would ever have
thought of it!"

"No one did," said Wentworth.

"_I_ didn't. I may tell you frankly that I did _not_. The Marchesa! I
knew her. But it never so much as crossed my mind that she had massacred
her old hubby. 'Good God! The Marchesa!' Those were my exact words when
I heard a week ago. Is Carstairs in London? I should like just to shake
him by the hand."

"He is not in town. He is still feeling the effects of his
imprisonment."

"I should like to have seen him. It was my fault he was found you know.
I said 'Perhaps he's behind the screen.' Dreadfully sorry. Wish I
hadn't. Only my fun. Never thought he was there, or anyone. I've never
forgotten his coming out from behind the screen. But what I want to know
is," Lord John tapped Wentworth on the arm with his eyeglass, and
lowered his voice confidentially, "_why he ever went behind it_. That's
what has been puzzling me ever since I read the Marchesa's confession.
If he wanted to shield her, why the deuce did he hide at all? Why not
strike a noble attitude bang in the middle of the room--from the first?"

Wentworth looked at him astonished. The vague suspicion of the last
weeks that Michael was concealing something from him was taking shape at
last.

There was no doubt that Lord John had got hold of a listener.

"No, no, Maine. When Carstairs was hiding behind the screen he was not
dying with anxiety to take the Marchesa's crime on his white
shoulders--not at that moment. That explanation don't wash. I believe I
know a better one."

Wentworth became very red.

"The Duchess's maid! Did you ever see her? No, evidently not. You've no
time for looking at young maids. Taken up with contemplating an old
maid in t