" he added,
turning to Duperre, "please explain."

Duperre laid down his cigarette-end in the tray, and said:

"Well, look here, George. What you must do is this. You will write to
old Lloyd at the Reform Club to-morrow and tell him that you are
leaving for Madrid on Tuesday week upon important business for our
friend Rayne. You will suggest that he goes to the Ritz while you go
to the Hotel de la Paix in the Puerta del Sol, as being less
expensive. You, as Rayne's secretary, cannot afford to stay at the
Ritz, you understand?"

"Then there is a specific reason why we should not stay at the same
hotel, eh?" I asked.

Duperre hesitated, and then nodded.

"I may come out to Spain and join you in a few days after your
arrival. At present I don't exactly know."

So, though full of resentment, I was compelled to the inevitable. Next
day I wrote to the Reform Club, and in reply received a letter
appointing to meet me at Charing Cross Station on the following
Tuesday week.

Lola became even more inquisitive next day. Whether her father had
inadvertently dropped a word in her presence I know not, but she had
somehow become aware that I had received orders to travel with Mr.
Lloyd to Spain.

What was intended? The "business" upon which I was being sent to Spain
was some _coup_ which Rayne's ever-active brain had carefully
conceived. He had used his daughter's bright and winning manners in
order to become friendly with the wealthy and somewhat mysterious old
man whom I was to conduct to Spain.

Naturally I was evasive as usually. I loved her, it was true. She was
all the world to me. And my love was, I believed, reciprocated, but
how could I admit my shameful compact with her father? I was now a
thief, having been drawn into that insidious plot which I described
in the previous chapter of my reminiscences as a servant to the King
of Crookdom.

So we walked pleasantly along to the white-headed old village
clockmaker, who was grandson of a well-known man who had fashioned the
little grandmother clocks which to-day are so rare--the pet
timekeepers of our bewigged ancestors. The name of the old fellow's
grandfather was on the list of famous makers of clocks in the days of
George the Third, which you can find in any book upon old clocks.

On our walk back to the Hall we chatted merrily.

"I rather envy you your run out to Madrid," Lola laughed. "I wish I
could go to Spain."

She was wearing a canary-colored jersey, s