that you should give me into charge. You would have
saved your five hundred pounds, and you would, at any rate, have something
in exchange for her grace's mutilated limb. Ah, here is the constable!
Officer!"

The stranger spoke with such a pleasant little air of easy geniality that
it was impossible to tell if he were in jest or in earnest. This fact
impressed the duke much more than if he had gone in for a liberal
indulgence of the--under the circumstances--orthodox melodramatic
scowling. And, indeed, in the face of his own common sense, it impressed
Mr. Ivor Dacre too.

This well-bred, well-groomed youth was just the being to realize--_aux
bouts des ongles_--a modern type of the devil, the type which depicts him
as a perfect gentleman, who keeps smiling all the time.

The constable whom this audacious rogue had signaled approached the little
group. He addressed the stranger:

"Do you want me, sir?"

"No, I do not want you. I think it is the Duke of Datchet."

The constable, who knew the duke very well by sight, saluted him as he
turned to receive instructions.

The duke looked white, even savage. There was not a pleasant look in his
eyes and about his lips. He appeared to be endeavoring to put a great
restraint upon himself. There was a momentary silence. Mr. Dacre made a
movement as if to interpose. The duke caught him by the arm.

He spoke: "No, constable, I do not want you. This person is mistaken."

The constable looked as if he could not quite make out how such a mistake
could have arisen, hesitated, then, with another salute, he moved away.

The stranger was still holding his watch in his hand.

"Only eight minutes," he said.

The duke seemed to experience some difficulty in giving utterance to what
he had to say.

"If I give you this five hundred pounds, you--you--"

As the duke paused, as if at a loss for language which was strong enough
to convey his meaning, the stranger laughed.

"Let us take the adjectives for granted. Besides, it is only boys who call
each other names--men do things. If you give me the five hundred
sovereigns, which you have in that bag, at once--in five minutes it will
be too late--I will promise--I will not swear; if you do not credit my
simple promise, you will not believe my solemn affirmation--I will
promise that, possibly within an hour, certainly within an hour and a
half, the Duchess of Datchet shall return to you absolutely
uninjured--except, of course, as you a