en rose as well. The two men
shook hands in silence.

When the latter spoke, it was to say: "Do you know how to open one of
those soda-water bottles? I've tried, but I can never get the trick. I
think I should like to have a drink--after this."

When they had put down their glasses, and the younger man was getting
into his great-coat, Thorpe bestowed the brandy and cigars within a
cabinet at the corner of the room, and carefully turned a key upon them.

"If you're going West, let me give you a lift," said Lord Plowden, hat
in hand. "I can set you down wherever you like. Unfortunately I've to go
out to dinner, and I must race, as it is, to get dressed."

Thorpe shook his head. "No, go along," he bade him. "I've some odds and
ends of things to do on the way."

"Then when shall I see you?"--began the other, and halted suddenly
with a new thought in his glance. "But what are you doing Saturday?"
he asked, in a brisker tone. "It's a dies non here. Come down with me
to-morrow evening, to my place in Kent. We will shoot on Saturday,
and drive about on Sunday, if you like--and there we can talk at our
leisure. Yes, that is what you must do. I have a gun for you. Shall we
say, then--Charing Cross at 9:55? Or better still, say 5:15, and we will
dine at home."

The elder man pondered his answer--frowning at the problem before him
with visible anxiety. "I'm afraid I'd better not come--it's very good of
you all the same."

"Nonsense," retorted the other. "My mother will be very glad indeed to
see you. There is no one else there--unless, perhaps, my sister has some
friend down. We shall make a purely family party."

Thorpe hesitated for only a further second. "All right. Charing Cross,
5:15," he said then, with the grave brevity of one who announces a
momentous decision.

He stood still, looking into the fire, for a few moments after his
companion had gone. Then, going to a closet at the end of the room, he
brought forth his coat and hat; something prompted him to hold them up,
and scrutinize them under the bright light of the electric globe. He put
them on, then, with a smile, half-scornful, half-amused, playing in his
beard.

The touch of a button precipitated darkness upon the Board Room. He made
his way out, and downstairs to the street. It was a rainy, windy October
night, sloppy underfoot, dripping overhead. At the corner before him, a
cabman, motionless under his unshapely covered hat and glistening rubber
cape, s