ble sounded the hour of midnight
briskly, with a pert, insistent clamor, and at the same instant a
boisterous and unruly knocking answered it from outside the library
door.

Stuart rose uncertainly from his chair and surveyed the tiny clock
face with a startled expression of bewilderment and relief.

"Stuart!" his friends called impatiently from the hall. "Stuart, let
us in!" and without waiting further for recognition a merry company of
gentlemen pushed their way noisily into the room.

"Where the devil have you been?" demanded Weimer. "You don't deserve
to be spoken to at all after quitting us like that. But Seldon is so
good-natured," he went on, "that he sent us after you. It was a great
success, and he made a rattling good speech, and you missed the whole
thing; and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. We've asked half the
people in front to supper--two stray Englishmen, all the Wilton girls
and their governor, and the chap that wrote the play. And Seldon and
his brother Sam are coming as soon as they get their make-up off.
Don't stand there like that, but hurry. What have you been doing?"

Stuart gave a nervous, anxious laugh. "Oh, don't ask me," he cried.
"It was awful. I've been trying an experiment, and I had to keep it up
until midnight, and--I'm so glad you fellows have come," he continued,
halting midway in his explanation. "I _was_ blue."

"You've been asleep in front of the fire," said young Sloane, "and
you've been dreaming."

"Perhaps," laughed Stuart, gayly, "perhaps. But I'm awake now, in any
event. Sloane, old man," he cried, dropping both hands on the
youngster's shoulders, "how much money have you? Enough to take me to
Gibraltar? They can cable me the rest."

"Hoorah!" shouted Sloane, waltzing from one end of the room to the
other. "And we're off to Ab-yss-in-ia in the morn-ing," he sang.
"There's plenty in my money belt," he cried, slapping his side; "you
can hear the ten-pound notes crackle whenever I breathe, and it's all
yours, my dear boy, and welcome. And I'll prove to you that the
Winchester is the better gun."

"All right," returned Stuart, gayly, "and I'll try to prove that the
Italians don't know how to govern a native state. But who is giving
this supper, anyway?" he demanded. "That is the main thing--that's
what I want to know."

"You've got to pack, haven't you?" suggested Rives.

"I'll pack when I get back," said Stuart, struggling into his
greatcoat, and searching in his