from my friend the Duke of Chestow, with
whom we have been staying."

Duncombe concealed his astonishment as well as he was able. He bowed to
the lady, and led them towards the library. Spencer, who had heard them
coming, had hastily concealed his revolver, and was lounging in an
easy-chair reading the evening paper.

"I am afraid that my servants are all in bed," Duncombe said, "and I can
offer you only a bachelor's hospitality. This is my friend, Mr.
Spencer--the Marquis and Marquise de St. Ethol. Wheel that easy-chair
up, Spencer, will you?"

Spencer's brow had betrayed not the slightest sign of surprise, but
Duncombe fancied that the Marquis had glanced at him keenly. He was
holding a note in his hand, which he offered to Duncombe.

"My errand is so unusual, and the hour so extraordinary," he said, "that
I thought it would be better for Chestow to write you a line or two.
Will you please read it?"

Duncombe tore open the envelope.

"CHESTOW, _Wednesday Evening_.

"MY DEAR DUNCOMBE,--My friend De St. Ethol tells me
that he is obliged, at great personal inconvenience, to
execute a commission for a friend which involves a somewhat
unceremonious call upon you to-night. He desires me,
therefore, to send you these few lines. The Marquis de St.
Ethol and his wife are amongst my oldest friends. It gives me
great pleasure to vouch for them both in every way.

"Yours sincerely,

"CHESTOW."

"The letter, I am afraid," the Marquis said, smiling, "does little to
satisfy your curiosity. Permit me to explain my errand in a few words."

"Certainly," Duncombe interrupted. "But won't you take something? I am
glad to see that Spencer is looking after your wife."

The Marquise had raised her veil, and was leaning back in a chair, with
a sandwich poised in the fingers of one hand and a glass of Burgundy in
the other. She was looking a little less bored, and was chatting gayly
to Spencer, whose French was equal to her own.

"I thank you very much," the Marquis said. "I will not take anything to
drink, but if you have cigarettes--ah, thanks!"

He lit one, and sat on the arm of an easy-chair.

"The facts are these," he said. "I have a great friend in Paris who,
knowing that I was at Chestow, and returning to France to-morrow, has, I
must say, taken some advantage of my good nature. I am asked to call
here and escort home to her friends a young lady, who, I understand,