aloud, as
he rose hastily and took out his watch. "I must be in Downing Street by
eleven, and it only wants ten minutes. If you will walk with me to the
gates, I have something to tell you about your MS."

III.

"SCARLET AND WHITE" MAKES A HIT, AND FALKENSTEIN FEELS THE WEIGHT OF THE
GOLDEN FETTERS.

"Tom, will you come to the theatre with me to-night?" said Falkenstein
as they lounged by the rails one afternoon in May.

"The theatre! What for? Who's that girl with a scarlet tie, on that roan
there? I don't know her face. The ballet is the only thing worth
stirring a step for in town. Which theatre is it?"

"I am going to see the new piece Pomps and Vanities is bringing out, and
I want you as a sort of claqueur."

"Very well. I'll come," said Tom, who regarded Falkenstein, who had been
his school and formfellow, still rather as a Highlandman his chief;
"but, certainly, the first night of a play is the very last I should
select. But if you wish it---- There's that roan coming round again!
Good action, hasn't it?"

Obedient to his chiefs orders, Bevan brushed his whiskers, settled his
tie, or rather let his valet do it for him, and accompanied Waldemar to
one of the crack-up theatres, where Pomps and Vanities, as the manager
was irreverently styled by the habitues of his green-room, reigned in a
state of scenic magnificence, very different to the days when Garrick
played Macbeth in wig and gaiters.

Bevan asked no questions; he was rather a silent man, and probably knew
by experience that he would most likely get no answers, unless the
information was volunteered. So settling in his own mind that it was the
debut of some protegee of Falkenstein's, he followed him to the door of
a private box. Waldemar opened it, and entered. In it sat two women:
one, a middle-aged lady-like-looking person; the other a young one, in
whom, as she turned round with a radiant smile, and gave Falkenstein her
hand, Bevan recognised Valerie L'Estrange. "Keep up your courage,"
whispered Waldemar, as he took the seat behind her, and leaned forward
with a smile. Tom stared at them both. It was high Dutch to him; but
being endowed with very little curiosity, and a lion's share of British
immovability, he waited without any impatience for the elucidation of
the mystery, and seeing the Count and Valerie absorbed in earnest and
low-toned conversation, he first studied the house, and finding not a
single decent-looking woman, he droppe