"What sort of a reputation does he bear?" Berrington asked in a whisper.

"Shady," Field replied briefly. "What you call a renegade, I should
say. Has all the vices of both hemispheres, without the redeeming
features of either. Low-class music halls, ballet dancers,
prize-fighters and the like. At the same time he's got the good sense
not to flaunt these vices before the public, and he knows how to conduct
himself with dignity when there is any necessity for it. Despite his
handsome income, he is frequently in dire need of money. Still, I should
never have identified him with this business had I not seen him here. I
had no idea that he even knew Sir Charles Darryll and Mr. Richford."

The Rajah stood there biting his nails impatiently, as if waiting for
somebody. He crossed over to the table and opened a bottle of champagne
to which he helped himself liberally. The fizz of the wine could be
distinctly heard in the drawing-room.

"I'd give half my pension to know how that thing is worked," said
Berrington. "A moment ago there was nothing on that table, and now look
at it! It would have taken the staff of a large hotel half an hour to
arrange a meal like that. The flowers alone would have occupied the
time. The servants here----"

"You may bet your life that the servants know nothing about it," Field
said. "They have been sent away right enough. I feel quite sure that
they are innocent of everything. It would never do to let domestics talk
of these matters."

The Rajah was pacing up and down the dining-room talking to himself. A
moment later there was a rattle of a latchkey and two people came in.
The first was a young man with the unmistakable stamp of the actor on
him, smart, well groomed, clean shaven, the society actor of to-day. He
was followed by an exceedingly pretty, fair-haired woman, who might
have belonged to the same profession. Just for the moment it occurred to
Field that these were ordinary guests who knew nothing of the mystery of
the house. There was nothing about either of them to connect them with
crime or mystery.

They pitched their wraps carelessly on the hall table as if they had
been there before, and made their way to the dining-room. The Rajah's
face grew eager.

"Well, my children," he said in excellent English, "have you had any
luck? Cora, dear, tell me that you have succeeded in our little
counterplot."

The woman's pretty face grew hard. She pulled a chair up to the table
and sat d