me
Lucas Errol.

He walked with extreme difficulty, leaning on a crutch. His head was
uncovered, and the glare of the September sunlight smote full upon it.
The hair was turning very grey.

He was smiling as he came, but his brows were slightly drawn, his eyes
sunk in deep hollows.

Swiftly and comprehensively the man at the foot of the steps scanned
every detail, marked the halting, painful progress, the lined forehead.
And the next moment, as Lucas paused, preparatory to descending, he
pushed forward with characteristic decision of movement and moved upwards
to his side.

"I guess you'll find me useful at this juncture," he said.

Lucas's start of surprise was instantly followed by a smile of welcome.
He gripped Capper's hand warmly.

"The very man I want! But how in wonder did you get here? You never
walked all the way from the station?"

"I did," said Capper.

"You don't say! Why didn't you let me know? I guess we must move on. We
are blocking the gangway."

"Easy does it," said Capper. "It won't hurt 'em any to wait. Get
your arm over my shoulder. That's the way. These steps are the very
devil for you."

He bent his wiry frame to Lucas Errol's need, and helped him to descend.
At the foot he paused a moment and looked at him keenly.

"All serene," smiled Lucas. "I'll take your arm now, if it's all the
same to the mother. You didn't expect to find us plunged in wedding
gaieties, I guess."

"Wish it had been your own," said Capper.

At which Lucas turned up his face to the sky and laughed.

They crossed the flag-decked garden and entered by the conservatory door.
People were beginning to crowd about them.

"We must find you a seat somehow," said Capper.

"I must have a word with the bride and bridegroom first," Lucas declared.

But the bride and bridegroom were for the moment inaccessible, being
completely surrounded by well-wishers.

Capper seized upon the first chair he came upon and put Lucas into it.

"I seem to have come in the nick of time," he observed drily. "Why is no
one detailed to look after you? Where is that tiger's whelp Nap?"

"Nap's in America, been gone two months or more."

"That so?" There was keen satisfaction in Capper's tone. "That clears the
ground for action. And Lady Carfax? Is she here?"

"No." There was a hint of reserve in the quiet reply. "Lady Carfax is in
deep mourning for her husband."

"That so?" said Capper again. He seemed to take but casual note of the