r Ruff shook his head.

"It won't do," he declared, "people will find me out."

"There is nothing to be found out," the Marquis went on, a little
wearily. "Your country life has dulled your wits, Baron. The title and
the name are justly yours--they go with the property. For the rest, the
history of your family, and of your career up to the moment when you
enter Porchester House to-night, will be inside this packet. You can
peruse it upon the journey, and remember that we can, at all times,
bring a hundred witnesses, if necessary, to prove that you are who you
declare yourself to be. When you get to Charing-Cross, do not forget
that it will be the carriage and servants of the Baron de Grost which
await you."

Peter Ruff shrugged his shoulders.

"Well," he said, thoughtfully, "I suppose I shall get used to it."

"Naturally," Sogrange answered. "For the moment, we are passing through
a quiet time, necessitated by the mortal illness of Madame. You will be
able to spend the next few weeks in getting used to your new position.
You will have a great many callers, inspired by us, who will see that
you make the right acquaintances and that you join the right clubs.
At the same time, let me warn you always to be ready. There is trouble
brewing just now all over Europe. In one way or another, we may become
involved at any moment. The whole machinery of our society will be
explained to you by your secretary. You will find him already installed
at Porchester House. A glass of wine, Baron, before you leave."

Peter Ruff glanced at the clock.

"There are my things to pack," he began--

Sogrange smiled.

"Your valet is already on the front seat of the automobile which is
waiting," he remarked. "You will find him attentive and trustworthy.
The clothes which you brought with you we have taken the liberty of
dispensing with. You will find others in your trunk, and at Porchester
House you can send for any tailor you choose. One toast, Baron. We drink
to the Double-Four--to the great cause!"

There was a murmur of voices. Sogrange lifted once more his glass.

"May Peter Ruff rest in peace!" he said. "We drink to his ashes. We
drink long life and prosperity to the Baron de Grost!"

CHAPTER II. PRINCE ALBERT'S CARD DEBTS

It was half past twelve, and every table at the Berkeley Bridge Club
was occupied. On the threshold of the principal room a visitor, who was
being shown around, was asking questions of the secretary.