"No!" he said. "No!" and he began to fold it up very carefully. "It's as
Millie says, a rather intolerable invention which has crept into the
social news. I must consider what steps we should take."

There was another at that table who was as disturbed as Sir Chichester
and Lady Splay. Martin Hillyard knew nothing of the paragraph which had
caused this consternation in his hosts; and he had asked no questions
last night. But he remembered every word that Joan had said. She had
seen Mario Escobar somewhere since leaving Rackham Park--that was
certain; and Mario Escobar had demanded information. "Demanded" was the
word which Joan had used. Mario Escobar was of the blackmailing type.
Martin's heart was in his mouth.

"An invention about us here?" he asked.

"About one of us," answered Sir Chichester; and Martin dared ask no
more.

Harry Luttrell, however, had none of Martin's knowledge to restrain him.

"In that case, sir, wouldn't it be wiser to read it now, aloud?" he
suggested. "It can't be suppressed now. Sooner or later every one will
hear of it."

Every one agreed except Hillyard. To him Harry Luttrell seemed wilfully
to be rushing towards catastrophe.

"Yes ... yes," said Sir Chichester slowly. He unfolded his newspaper
again and read; and of all those who listened no one was more amazed
than Hillyard himself. Mario Escobar had no hand in this abominable
work. For this is what Sir Chichester read:

"'A mysterious and tragic event has occurred at Rackham Park, where Sir
Chichester Splay, the well-known Baronet----'" He broke off to observe,
"Really, it's put quite civilly, Millie. It's a dreadful mistake, but so
far as the wording of the Editor is concerned it's put really more
considerately than I noticed at first."

"Oh, please go on," cried Millie.

"Very well, my dear," and he resumed--"where Sir Chichester Splay, the
well-known Baronet is entertaining a small party. At an early hour this
morning Mrs. Croyle, one of Sir Chichester's guests, died under strange
circumstances."

Miranda uttered a little scream.

"Died!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, listen to this," said Sir Chichester. "Mrs. Croyle was discovered
lying upon her side with her face bent above a glass of chloroform. The
glass was supported between her pillows and Mrs. Croyle's fingers were
still grasping it when she was discovered."

A gasp of indignation and horror ran round that breakfast table when Sir
Chichester had finished.

"It's s