to the beach. After the
discussion on the outward run it was but natural that words should be
few, and Leslie was glad of it for more reasons than one. They had the
wind against them now, and the sailing of the boat claimed all his
attention. A succession of short tacks was necessary before he landed
his precious freight.

The motor car was waiting for the ladies, and when he had bestowed them
in it, and given a promise to come out to the Manor House later in the
day, Leslie turned in the opposite direction to go to his rooms for
lunch. As he neared the end of the parade, he saw Travers Nugent
watching him from one of the windows of the club, and he averted his
gaze so as not to catch the eye of his enemy. But the elementary tactics
were of no avail. Nugent came out of the front door before he could
pass.

"Come inside; there is need for a consultation," said the Maharajah's
agent.

Leslie angrily shook off the detaining hand which had been laid upon his
arm. "I don't wish to have anything to do with you. I'll be hanged if I
come in," he said.

Nugent laughed--the little musical laugh that women loved and men
loathed. "My dear fellow, you have used an apt term in the reverse
sense," he cooed. "You will certainly be hanged if you don't come in and
listen to what I have to say."

For the second time that morning Leslie Chermside paled beneath his
Eastern tan, and he meekly followed Nugent into the club.

CHAPTER XIV

THE CREAKING STAIR

Throughout the bewildering excitement in the boat consequent on Miss
Dymmock's benevolence, Leslie had been conscious of a weak spot in his
armour, which, if it had been detected by his antagonist, might prove
his undoing. Nugent's ominous rejoinder suggested that the weak spot had
been found, and that he was being led into the comfortable seclusion of
the Ottermouth Club for the purpose of having it pierced.

"We had better go into the card-room," said Nugent. "There will be less
chance of interruption there, though at present there is no one in the
club. Every one has gone home to lunch."

The card-room was on the first floor, with a window overlooking the sea.
Leslie remained standing just inside the door, but Nugent sat down at
one of the card tables, his fingers drawing fantastic patterns on the
green cloth as he seemed to consider how best to open the subject.
Suddenly he raised his eyes, and Leslie saw with surprise that there was
no hostility in them--only a l