ng heard that a
battle was going on, he came to the scene of it in the hope of
pillage.

"I suppose," I said, "they won't actually hang him?"

"It was him, as your lordship is aware," said Crossan, "that gave the
first information to the Government."

Crossan, in spite of the fact that he was a victorious general,
preserved his peculiar kind of respect for my title. He did not,
indeed, take off his hat when he entered the room, but that was only
because soldiers, while on duty, never take off their hats.

"Don't be absurd, Crossan," I said. "You know perfectly well that he
hasn't intelligence enough to give anything but wrong information to
any Government. What he told the Chancellor of the Exchequer when he
wrote to him was that you were smuggling."

"If your lordship doesn't care to interfere--," said Crossan.

"Can I help in any way?" said Bland.

He had been eating steadily and had finished the two crabs. I had not
eaten more than three or four mouthfuls of game pie. I felt I might
accept his offer.

"If you've any experience of courts martial," I said, "I haven't--and
if you really don't mind trotting off--"

"Not a bit," said Bland. "In fact a court martial would be rather a
scoop for me. I'm sure the public would want to know how it's run."

"I shall feel greatly obliged to you," I said. "The fact is that a
nephew of mine is going to be hanged as a spy. You said you were going
to hang him, didn't you, Crossan?"

"I think it likely, my lord," said Crossan.

"Of course," I said, "he richly deserves it; and so far as my own
personal feelings go I should be very glad if he were hanged. But, of
course, he's my nephew and people might think I'd been unkind to him
if I made no effort to save him. One must consider public opinion more
or less. So if you could arrange to rescue him--"

While I was speaking Clithering shambled into the room. He was wearing
a suit of pyjamas not nearly big enough for him. The waiter who put
him to bed was quite a small man. The pyjamas must have been his. He
asked us to find his clothes for him, and said that he wanted to go to
the post-office.

"I must send a telegram to the Prime Minister," he said. "I must send
it at once."

Crossan eyed him very suspiciously.

"It strikes me," said Bland, "that if you're caught sending telegrams
to the Prime Minister you'll be hanged too."

"They're just going to hang a nephew of mine," I explained, "for
writing a letter to the Ch