mounted, impetuously as was his custom, but the Sergeant held him back
by the arm.

"I crave your forgiveness," he whispered, "but if you will pardon me
saying so, I have much more experience in such matters than you. Permit
me in this single case to precede you! We know not what or whom we may
meet with above!"

Nevertheless, though the Sergeant mounted first, Rollo followed so
closely that his hands upon the rounds of the ladder were more than once
in danger of being trodden upon by the Sergeant's half-boots.

Presently they stood together on the iron balcony and peered within. A
tall dark man leaned against an elaborately carved mantelpiece
indolently stroking his glossy black whiskers. A lady arrayed in a
dressing-gown of pink silk reaching to her feet was seated on a chair,
and submitting restlessly enough to the hands of her maid, who was
arranging her hair for the night, in the intervals of a violent but
somewhat one-sided quarrel which was proceeding between the pair.

Every few moments the lady would start from her seat and with her eyes
flashing fire she would advance towards the indolent dandy by the
mantelpiece as if with purpose of personal assault. At such seasons the
stout old Abigail instantly remitted her attentions and stood perfectly
well trained and motionless, with the brush and comb in her hand, till
it pleased her lady to sit down again.

All the while the gentleman said no word, but watched the development of
the scene with the utmost composure, passing his beautiful white fingers
through his whiskers and moustache after the fashion of a comb. The
lady's anger waxed higher and higher, and with it her voice also rose in
an equal ratio. What the end would have been it is difficult to
prophesy, for the Sergeant, realising that time was passing quickly,
produced an instrument with a broad flat blade bent at an acute angle to
the handle, and inserting it sharply into the crack of the French
window, opened it with a click which must have been distinctly audible
within, even in the height of the lady's argument.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE QUEEN'S ANTE-CHAMBER

Out of the darkness Rollo and the Sergeant stepped quickly into the
room. Whereupon, small wonder that the lady should scream and fall back
into her chair, the waiting-maid drop upon the floor as if she had been
struck by a Carlist bullet, or the gentleman with the long and glossy
whiskers suspend his caresses and gaze upon the pair wit