sual, seemed to have fastened upon the minor point,
although again it was not so. "You are newly crossed from France?" said
he. "Ay, and your name is the same as mine. 'Twas what I was advised."

Mr. Caryll flashed a sidelong glance at Rotherby, who had turned to
stare at his father, and in his heart he cursed the stupidity of my Lord
Ostermore. If this proposed to be a member of a conspiracy, Heaven help
that same conspiracy!

"Were you, by any chance, going to seek me in town, Mr. Caryll?"

Mr. Caryll suppressed a desire to laugh. Here was a way to deal with
State secrets. "I, my lord?" he inquired, with an assumed air of
surprise.

The earl looked at him, and from him to Rotherby, bethought himself, and
started so overtly that Rotherby's eyes grew narrow, the lines of his
mouth tightened. "Nay, of course not; of course not," he blustered
clumsily.

But Rotherby laughed aloud. "Now what a plague is all this mystery?" he
inquired.

"Mystery?" quoth my lord. "What mystery should there be?"

"'Tis what I would fain be informed," he answered in a voice that showed
he meant to gain the information. He sauntered forward towards Caryll,
his eye playing mockingly over this gentleman from France. "Now, sir,"
said he, "whose messenger may you be, eh? What's all this--"

"Rotherby!" the earl interrupted in a voice intended to be compelling.
"Come away, Mr. Caryll," he added quickly. "I'll not have any gentleman
who has shown himself a friend to my ward, here, affronted by that
rascal. Come away, sir!"

"Not so fast! Not so fast, ecod!"

It was another voice that broke in upon them. Rotherby started round.
Gaskell, in the shadows of the cowled fireplace jumped in sheer alarm.
All stared at the window whence the voice proceeded.

They beheld a plump, chubby-faced little man, astride the sill, a pistol
displayed with ostentation in his hand.

Mr. Caryll was the only one with the presence of mind to welcome him.
"Ha!" said he, smiling engagingly. "My little friend, the brewer of
ale."

"Let no one leave this room," said Mr. Green with a great dignity. Then,
with rather less dignity, he whistled shrilly through his fingers, and
got down lightly into the room.

"Sir," blustered the earl, "this is an intrusion; an impertinence. What
do you want?"

"The papers this gentleman carries," said Mr. Green, indicating Caryll
with the hand that held the pistol. The earl looked alarmed, which was
foolish in him, thought Mr. C