resently, would you play one game of chess with my father? I am
not really good enough to be of much use; it doesn't amuse him to play
with me."

"Yes," said Rendel. "I have just got one or two letters to write and
then I'll come."

"I think it would really be better," said Rachel, "if he came in here.
It is rather a change for him, you know, to come into a different room
after having been in the house all day."

"Just as you like," said Rendel, without much enthusiasm, but also
without any noticeable want of it.

"Well," said Wentworth, "I'm not going to keep you any longer, Frank. I
just came in to--give you my views about things in general."

"Thank you," said Rendel, with a smile. "I am much beholden to you for
them."

"Perhaps you would come up and see my father, Mr. Wentworth," said
Rachel, "before you go away?"

"I shall be delighted," Wentworth said. His feeling towards Sir William
Gore was kindly on the whole, and the kindliness was intensified at this
moment by compassion, although he could not help resenting a little that
Gore should have been an indirect cause of Rendel's refusing what
Wentworth considered was the chance of his friend's life. He shook hands
with Rendel and prepared to follow Rachel. At this moment a loud, double
knock resounded upon the hall door with a peremptoriness which must have
induced an unusual and startling rapidity in the movements of Thacker,
Rendel's butler, for almost instantly afterwards he threw open the study
door with a visible perturbation and excitement in his demeanour,
saying--

"It's Lord Stamfordham, sir, who wants particularly to see you." And to
Rendel's amazement Lord Stamfordham appeared in the doorway. He bowed
to Wentworth, whom he knew slightly, and shook hands with Rachel. She
then went straight out, followed by Wentworth. As the door closed behind
them, Stamfordham, answering Rendel's look of inquiry and without
waiting for any interchange of greetings, said hurriedly--

"Rendel, I want you to do me a service."

"Please command me," Rendel said quickly, looking straight at him. He
felt his heart beat as Stamfordham paused, put his hat down on the
table, took his pocket-book out of his breast pocket and a folded paper
out of it.

"I want you," he said, "to transcribe some pencil notes of mine."

"You want _me_ to transcribe them?" said Rendel, with an involuntary
inflection of surprise in his tone.

"Yes, if you will," said Stamfordham. "The fa