billiards of a certain Francis
Beveridge used to be the object of the doctor's unbounded admiration, and
it was with the liveliest interest that he watched a game between Colonel
Savage and the Baron.

That nobleman knew well the danger of displaying his old dexterity, and to
the onlookers it soon became apparent that this branch of his education
had been neglected. He not only missed the simplest shots, but seemed very
ignorant of the rules of the English game, and in consequence he came in
for a little good-natured chaff from Sir Richard and Trelawney. When the
colonel's score stood at 90 and the Baron had scarcely reached 25
Trelawney cried, "I'll bet you ten to one you don't win, Baron!"

"What in?" asked the Baron, and the colonel noticed that for the first
time be pronounced a _w_ correctly.

"Sovereigns," said Trelawney, gaily.

The temptation was irresistible.

"Done!" said the Baron. With a professional disregard for conventions he
bolted the white into the middle pocket, leaving his own ball nicely
beside the red. Down in its turn went the red, and Mr Bunker was on the
spot. Three followed three in monotonous succession, Trelawney's face
growing longer and Dr Escott getting more and more excited, till with a
smile Mr Bunker laid down his cue, a sensational winner.

His victory was received in silence: Trelawney handed over two five-pound
notes without a word, and the colonel returned to his whisky-and-soda. Dr
Escott could contain himself no longer, and whispering something to Sir
Richard, the two left the room.

Imperturbable as ever, Mr Bunker talked gaily for a few minutes to an
unresponsive audience, and then, remarking that he would join the ladies,
left the room.

A minute or two later Sir Richard, with an anxious face, returned with Dr
Escott.

"Where is the Baron?" he asked.

"Gone to join the ladies," replied Trelawney, adding under his breath,
"d---- n him!"

But the Baron was not with the ladies, nor, search the house as they
might, was there a trace to be seen of that accomplished nobleman.

"He has gone!" said Sir Richard.

"What the deuce is the meaning of it?" exclaimed Trelawney.

Colonel Savage smiled grimly and suggested, "Perhaps he wants to give the
impostor an innings."

"Dr Escott, I think, can tell you," replied the baronet.

"Gentlemen," said the doctor, "the man whom you have met as the Baron von
Blitzenberg is none other than a most cunning and determined lunatic.