'm more their
friend than ever. I'll help 'em to get away from here, and I'll bulldose
these Rodneys into holding their peace forever after. It's the Rodney
duplicity that I can't stand."

"Shall we stay here or shall we find an excuse to leave?" she asked
pointedly.

"We'll stay long enough for me to tell the Rodneys wot I think of 'em,
I'll have an answer to my despatch by night. Then, I should advise you
to have a talk with Mrs. Medcroft. You've invited her to the house, you
know. Tell her there can't be two Medcrofts. See wot I mean? We'll see
'em through this, but--well, you understand."

Meantime a telegram had preceded a lengthy letter into the department of
the police, both directed to Herr Bauer, who in reality was James
Githens, of Scotland Yard. The telegram had said: "Why do you say M. is
there? He is in London. Explain. Letter to-morrow." The letter had come,
and Mr. Githens, as well as the local police office, was "bowled over,"
to express it in Scotland Yard English. He had wired his employers that
"M. is still in Innsbruck. Cannot be in London." It was very clearly set
forth in the letter that Roxbury Medcroft was in London, and that Mr.
Githens, of Scotland Yard, had betrayed his trust. He was virtually
charged with playing into the hands of the enemy,--"selling out," as it
were. It readily may be expected that Mr. Githens was accused of being
in the employ of the "opposition." Moreover, it is but reasonable to
assume that he took vigorous steps at once to vindicate himself: which
accounts for the woe that lurked close behind the heels of a man named
Brock.

Brock and Constance had ridden off that afternoon to visit the historic
Schloss Ambras. The great castle had been saved for the very last of
their explorations; he had just been able to secure permission to visit
that part of the Duke's residence open on certain occasions to the
curious public. Edith had declined to accompany them. In the first
place, she was expecting the all-important message from her husband--she
was "on nettles," to quote her plaintive eagerness; in the second place,
she realised that as the crisis was at hand in the affairs of Brock and
Constance, her presence was not a necessary adjunct. Not only was she
expecting a message from Roxbury, but eagerly anticipating an outburst
of joyous news from the two who had, it seemed, very gladly left her
behind.

The young couple, returning by the lower road from the Schloss, came to