ver, he felt that it
would be just like Camilla to start by behaving to him as though nothing
had occurred. (But he would soon alter that, he said masterfully.) He
was, on the whole, happy as he lay in bed. She knew that he loved her.
They had been intimate. In three hours at most he would see her again.
And his expectations ran high. Indeed, she had already begun to exist in
his mind as his life's companion.

Simon coughed politely but firmly.

'What's that you say?' Hugo demanded; and Simon repeated his item of
news.

'Ha!' said Hugo; 'doubtless some enthusiast for sunrises.'

'He has been twice perceived in the little gallery by the men cleaning
the roof garden,' Simon added.

'And who is it?'

'His identity has not been established,' said Simon.

'Can't you moderate your language a little, Shawn?' Hugo asked, staring
always absently up into the dome.

'I beg pardon, sir. I have spent part of the night with Albert, and his
loose speech always drives me to the other extreme,' Simon observed,
repentant.

'Has Albert seen the burglar?'

'No, sir, if it _is_ a burglar.'

'Well,' said Hugo, 'he's quite safe where he is. He can't get down
except by that door, can he?' pointing to a masked door, which was
painted to represent a complete set in sixty volumes of the 'Acts of the
Saints.'

'No, sir.'

'And he could only have got up by that door?' Hugo pursued.

'Yes, sir.'

'Which means that you were away from your post last night, my son.'

'I was, sir,' Shawn admitted frankly. 'When you and Albert and the lady
ran off so quickly, I followed, as far as I judged expedient--beg
pardon, sir. The man must have slipped in during my absence. I remember
I noticed the masked door was ajar on my return. I shut and locked it.'

'That explains everything,' said Hugo. 'You see how your sins find you
out.'

'Yes, sir.'

'I say, Shawn,' Hugo cried, as he went to his bath, 'talking of that
chap up above, play me the Captives' chorus from "Fidelio."'

'It is not in the repertoire, sir,' said Simon, after searching.

'Not in the repertoire! Impossible!'

'No, sir.'

'Ah well, then, let us have the Wedding March from "Lohengrin."'

'With pleasure, sir.'

But Simon was unfortunate that morning. The toilet completed, Hugo came
towards him swinging the gold token, the bearer of which had the right
to take whatever he chose from all the hundred and thirty-one
departments of the stores in exchange for a simple rec