because of its
exceeding beauty and its historical associations. The moat by which it
was surrounded, the grass court within, for it was built on three sides
of a square, the mullioned windows, the towered gateway of red brick,
the low-panelled rooms hung with the portraits of departed Vernons,
the sloping park and the splendid oaks that stood about, singly or in
groups, were all of them perfect in their way. It was one of the most
lovely of English homes, and oddly enough its neglected gardens and the
air of decay that pervaded it, added to rather than decreased its charm.

But it is with The Court that we have to do at present, not with
Yarleys. Mr. Champers-Haswell had a week-end party. There were ten
guests, all men, and with the exception of Alan, who it will be
remembered was one of them, all rich and in business. They included two
French bankers and three Jews, everyone a prop of the original Sahara
Syndicate and deeply interested in the forthcoming flotation. To
describe them is unnecessary, for they have no part in our story, being
only financiers of a certain class, remarkable for the riches they had
acquired by means that for the most part would not bear examination. The
riches were evident enough. Ever since the morning the owners of this
wealth had arrived by ones or twos in their costly motorcars, attended
by smart chauffeurs and valets. Their fur coats, their jewelled studs
and rings, something in their very faces suggested money, which indeed
was the bond that brought and held them together.

Alan did not come until it was time to dress for dinner, for he knew
that Barbara would not appear before that meal, and it was her society
he sought, not that of his host or fellow guests. Accompanied by his
negro servant, Jeekie, for in a house like this it was necessary to have
someone to wait upon him, he drove over from Yarleys, a distance of ten
miles, arriving about eight o'clock.

"Mr. Haswell as gone up to dress, Major, and so have the other
gentlemen," said the head butler, Mr. Smith, "but Miss Champers told me
to give you this note and to say that dinner is at half-past eight."

Alan took the note and asked to be shown to his room. Once there,
although he had only five and twenty minutes, he opened it eagerly,
while Jeekie unpacked his bag.

"Dear Alan," it ran: "Don't be late for dinner, or I may not be able to
keep a place next to me. Of course Sir Robert takes me in. They are a
worse lot than usu