on't know." The
nobleman moved quickly. "But he hasn't found him--yet; apparently the
fellow took alarm, knowing the police agent might want him, and vanished
again."

Lord Ronsdale moistened his lips; then got up, walked back and forth. A
brisker gust, without, and the tin symbol of the Golden Lion over the
entrance to the inn swung with a harsh rattle almost around the bar that
held it. The nobleman stopped short; from the dim corner where he stood
his eyes gleamed with animal brightness.

"And now?" suggested Mr. Gillett. "Your lordship of course knows what
this means, if your lordship uses the weapons you have in your hands?
The penalty for one transported returning to England is--"

"I know," interrupted the other. "He has, however, dared to come back,
to incur that risk. Any plea he could hope to make," Lord Ronsdale spoke
with studied deliberation, "to justify the act, he could
not--substantiate." The speaker lingered on the word then went on more
crisply. "He stands in the position of a person who has broken one of
the most exacting laws of the realm and one which has on all occasions
been rigorously enforced. He has presumed to trespass in the highest
circles, to mingle with people of rank, our gentry, our ladies--"

"Then your lordship will--"

"I have made my plans. And--I intend to act."

"Where?"

"Here."

"But would it not be better to wait until he returns to London, my
Lord?"

"And give him more time to--" he broke off. "We act here, at once!"

Lord Ronsdale again seated himself; his face had regained its hard mask;
he motioned the other man to draw his chair closer. "I'll tell you how
to proceed."

* * * * *

CHAPTER XII

FESTIVITIES

The windows in Strathorn House shone bright; from within came the sound
of music; in the billiard room, adjoining the spacious hall, a number of
persons were smoking, playing, or watching the dancers. At one of the
tables two men had about finished a game; by the skilful stroke of him
who showed the better score, the balls clicked briskly, separated, and
came together once more.

"Enough to go out with!" The player, Captain Forsythe, counted his
score. "Shall we say another, Steele?"

"Not for me!" John Steele placed his cue in the rack. "I'm out for a
breath of air." And he stepped through an open French window, leading
upon a balcony that almost spanned the rear of the house.

"Mr. Steele seems to be rather o