walked through.

Noticing the impertinent intrusion almost at once, Mr. Dunsmore turned
round and called "This is private."

Dunn did not seem to hear, and Mr. Dunsmore walked across to him with
a very impatient air, while the little group of tourists watched,
with much interest and indignation and a very comforting sense of
superiority.

"He ought to be sent right out of the grounds," they told each other.
"That's the sort of rude behaviour other people have to suffer for."

"Now, my man," said Mr. Dunsmore sharply, "this is private, you've no
business here."

"Sorry, sir; beg pardon, I'm sure," said Dunn, touching his hat, and as
he did so he said in a sharp, penetrating whisper: "Look out--trouble's
brewing--don't know what, but look out, all the time."

He had spoken so quickly and quietly, in the very act of turning away,
that none of the onlookers could have told that a word had passed,
but for the very violent start that Walter Dunsmore made and his quick
movement forward as if to follow the other. Immediately Dunn turned back
towards him with a swift warning gesture of his hand.

"Careful, you fool, they're looking," he said in a quick whisper, and
in a loud voice: "Very sorry, sir; beg pardon--I'm sure I didn't mean
anything."

Walter Dunsmore swung round upon his heel and went quickly back to where
Lord Chobham waited; and his face was like that of one who has gazed
into the very eyes of death.

"Lord in Heaven," he muttered, "it's all over, I'm done." And his hand
felt for a little metal box he carried in his waistcoat pocket and
that held half a dozen small round tablets, each of them a strong man's
death.

But he took his hand away again as he rejoined his cousin, patron, and
employer, old Lord Chobham.

"What's the matter, Walter?" Lord Chobham asked. "You look pale."

"The fellow was a bit impudent; he made me angry," said Walter
carelessly. He fingered the little box in his waistcoat pocket and
thought how one tablet on his tongue would always end it all. "By the
way, oughtn't Rupert to be back soon?" he asked.

"Yes, he ought," said Lord Chobham severely. "It's time he married and
settled down--I shall speak to his father about it. The boy is always
rushing off somewhere or another when he ought to be getting to know the
estate and the tenants."

Walter Dunsmore laughed.

"I think he knows them both fairly well already," he said. "Not a tenant
on the place but swears by Rupert. He's