imself. "I--er--called in the first place to speak about an
unfortunate--er--incident that happened on Garrison Hill here last
Sunday."

"Ah," said the Commandant, "so you have heard about it? I am sorry."

"Sorry for what, sir?"

"Sorry that anyone should have thought it worth while to carry tales to
you; but also sorry for the incident itself."

"It appears to me, Major Vigoureux, that the incident demands some
apology."

"I have made it."

Sir Caesar crossed his legs and coughed to clear his throat. "I think,
my dear sir," said he, in a tone at once slightly pompous and slightly
nervous, "I really think it's time that you and I came to an
understanding; that we--er--recognised, so to speak, the situation, and
played with the cards on the table. Do you agree with me?"

"I might," answered the Commandant, guardedly; "that is to say, if I
understood."

"I acquit you, of course, of any active share in the incident, and I am
assured that Archelaus and Treacher were no worse than accomplices. It
appears that the real culprit was a totally different person, and," he
went on, after a glance at the Commandant's face, which betrayed
nothing, "it may save time if I tell you that she has confessed to me."

"Excuse me, I was not proposing to make any remark."

"But who in the world is the young person?"

The Commandant's eyebrows arched themselves slightly. "She is a lady,"
he answered, in a dry voice. "If she omitted to tell you her name, the
omission was no doubt intentional, and she has carried her confession
just so far as she intended it to go."

"She called herself Cara; but the name tells me nothing. Who is she? I
agree with you as to her address and appearance: she is in every
respect--er--presentable. A relative, may I inquire?"

"No."

"A friend, then? You will pardon me? A delicate question to put, of
course."

Again the Commandant's eyebrows went up slightly. "She was my guest for
a day or two," he answered.

"_Was?_ Then where in the world is she staying now?"

"If she did not tell you--" began the Commandant, but Sir Caesar
interrupted him impatiently.

"Tell me? Devil a bit of it, and that's partly why I'm here. Vanished
like a witch, begad, while I was turning to ring the bell! And where
she went or where she came from are mysteries alike to me."

"Why, then," the Commandant pursued, in a steady musing voice, "it
seems to follow that, even if I knew, I have not her permission to
tell."