le! My husband is hunting for sapphires in the ravine back
of--" She did not complete the sentence.

The Enemy was greeting the statuesque natives with a friendliness that
upset all calculations. It was evident that the meeting was prearranged.
There was no attempt at secrecy; the conference, whatever its portent,
had the merit of being quite above-board. In the end, the tall
solicitor, lifting his helmet with a gesture so significant that it left
no room for speculation, turned and sauntered through the broad gateway
and out into the forest road. The three servants returned as they had
come, by way of the bridle path along the wall.

"The nerve of him!" exclaimed Browne. "That graceful attention was meant
for us."

"He is like the polite robber who first beats you to death and then says
thank you for the purse," said Lady Deppingham. "What a strange
proceeding, Mr. Browne. Can you imagine what it means?"

"Mischief of some sort, I'll be bound. I admire his nerve in holding the
confab under our very noses. I'll have Britt interview those fellows at
once. Our kitchen, our stable and our domestic discipline are
threatened."

They hastened to the chateau, and regaled the resourceful Britt with the
disquieting news.

"I'll have it out of 'em in a minute," he said confidently. "Where's
Saunders? Where's Miss Pelham? Confound the girl, she's never around
when I want her these days. Hay, you!" to a servant. "Send Miss Pelham
to me. The one in pink, understand? Golden-haired one. Yes, yes, that's
right: the one who jiggles her fingers. Tell her to hurry."

But Miss Pelham was off in the wood, self-charged with the arousing of
Mr. Saunders; an hour passed before she could be found and brought into
the light of Mr. Britt's reflections. If her pert nose was capable of
elevating itself in silent disdain, Mr. Saunders was not able to emulate
its example. He was not so dazzled by the sunshine of her sprightly
recitals but that he could look sheep-faced in the afterglow of Britt's
scorn.

Britt, with all his clever blustering, could elicit no information from
the crafty head-servants. All they would say was that the strange sahib
had intercepted them on their way to the town, to ask if there were any
rooms to rent in the chateau.

"That's what he told you to say, isn't it?" demanded Britt angrily.
"Confounded his impudence! Rooms to rent!"

That evening he dragged the reluctant Saunders into the privacy of the
hanging gar