e window of Tudor's drawing-room, and, still side by side, gazed, as
Shawn had done, through the fine lacework of the blind into the splendid
apartment.

The window was almost at a corner of the room, near a door; but Hugo had
a perfect view of the two men within, and one was as certainly Louis
Ravengar as the other was Francis Tudor. They were gesticulating
violently and angrily, and a heavy, ornate Empire chair had already been
overturned. The dispute seemed to be interminable; each moment heralded
a fight, but it is the watched pot that never boils. Suddenly Hugo
became aware that Camilla was no longer at his elbow, and the next
instant, to his extreme amazement, he saw her glide into the room. She
had removed her hat and cloak, and stood revealed in all her beauty.
The two men did not perceive her. She softly opened the window, and the
confused murmur of voices reached Hugo's ear.

'Give me the revolver,' Camilla whispered.

And her whisper was such that he passed the weapon, as it were
hypnotically, to her under the blind. And then the blind slipped down,
and he could see no more. He heard a shot, and the next thing was that
the revolver was pushed back to him, nearly at the level of the floor.

'Wait there!' The sound of her voice, tense and authoritative, came
through the slit of the window and thrilled him. 'All is well now, but I
will send you a message.'

And the window was swiftly closed and a curtain drawn behind the blind.
He could hear nothing.

He had small intention of obeying her. 'She must have gone in by the
servants' entrance,' he argued. 'I should have seen her if she had tried
the other.' And he ran to the small door, but it was shut fast. In vain
he knocked and shook the handle for several minutes. Then he hastened to
the main door on the broad balcony, but that also was impregnable.

Should he break a pane?

A noise far along the balcony attracted him. He flew towards it, found
nothing but a cat purring, and returned. The luscious music of the
Tsigane band, one of the nine orchestras which he owned, reached him
faintly over the edge of the quadrangle.

Then he decidedly did hear human footsteps on the balcony. They were the
footsteps of Shawn.

'She's gone, sir. Took the lift, and whizzed off in Mr. Tudor's electric
brougham that was waiting.'

'And the men?' he gasped.

'Seen neither of them, sir. She put this note in my hand as she passed
me, sir.'

CHAPTER VI

A LAPSE