sly.

"I suppose you do," said the Duke, tolerably satisfied. "Now then, who
sent you here?"

"No one sent me," answered Screw with some pride. "I am not in the habit
of being sent, as you call it. It was in the course of a conversation I
had with Mr. Barker, the other day--"

"I thought so," interrupted the Englishman. "I thought Mr. Barker was at
the bottom of it. Will you please to deliver a message to Mr. Barker,
with my compliments?" Screw nodded solemnly, as under protest.

"Then be kind enough to tell him from me that he is a most infernal
blackguard. That if he attempts to carry this abominable plot any
further I will post him at every one of his clubs as a liar and a cheat,
and--and that he had better keep out of my way. As for you, sir, I would
advise you to look into his character, for I perceive that you are an
honest man."

"I am obliged to you, sir," said Mr. Screw, with something of a sneer.
"But who are you, pray, that ventures to call my clients by such ugly
names?"

"There is my card--you can see for yourself," said the Duke. Screw read
it. His anger was well roused by this time.

"We have small respect for titles in this country, my Lord Duke," said
he stiffly. "The best thing I can say is what you said to me, that you
impress me as being an honest man. Nevertheless you may be mistaken."

"That is a matter which will be decided the day after to-morrow," said
the other. "Meanwhile, in pursuance of what I said, I thank you very
sincerely indeed"--Mr. Screw smiled grimly--"no, I am in earnest, I
really thank you, on behalf of the Countess Margaret, for the honourable
part you have endeavoured to perform towards her; and I beg your pardon
for having mistaken you, and supposed you were in the plot. But give my
message to Mr. Barker--it is actionable, of course, and he may take
action upon it, if he likes. Good-morning, sir."

"Good-morning," said Screw shortly, somewhat pacified by the Duke's
frank apology.

"I think I settled him," said the peer to Margaret, as they got into the
cab that was to drive them to the Park. And they cantered away in royal
spirits.

CHAPTER XX.

Whatever reason may say, whatever certainty we may feel, the last hours
of waiting for an ocean steamer are anxious ones. The people at the
office may assure us twenty times that they feel "no anxiety
whatever"--that is their stock phrase; our friends who have crossed the
ocean twice a year for a score of years ma