o?"

The bartender looked with narrowed eyes from one to the other of the two
men. Then he suddenly froze up. Wilmore leaned a little further over the
impromptu counter.

"Jimmy," he asked, "what goes on here besides dancing and boxing and
gambling?"

"I never heard of any gambling," Jimmy answered, shaking his head. "Sir
Timothy doesn't care about cards being played here at all."

"What is the principal entertainment, then?" Francis demanded. "The
boxing?"

The bartender shook his head.

"No one understands very much about this house, sir," he said, "except
that it offers the most wonderful entertainment in Europe. That is
for the guests to find out, though. We servants have to attend to our
duties. Will you let me mix you another drink, sir?"

"No, thanks," Francis answered. "The last was too good to spoil. But you
haven't answered my question, Jimmy. What did you mean when you asked if
we were going down?"

Jimmy's face had become wooden.

"I meant nothing, sir," he said. "Sorry I spoke."

The two men turned away. They recognised many acquaintances in the
supper-room, and in the long gallery beyond, where many couples were
dancing now to the music of a wonderful orchestra. By slow stages
they made their way back to the winter-garden, where Lady Cynthia and
Margaret were still lost in admiration of their surroundings. They all
walked the whole length of the place. Beyond, down a flight of stone
steps, was a short, paved way to the river. A large electric launch
was moored at the quay. The grounds outside were dimly illuminated with
cunningly-hidden electric lights shining through purple-coloured globes
into the cloudy darkness. In the background, enveloping the whole of the
house and reaching to the river on either side, the great wall loomed
up, unlit, menacing almost in its suggestions. A couple of loiterers
stood within a few yards of them, looking at the launch.

"There she is, ready for her errand, whatever it may be," one said to
the other curiously. "We couldn't play the stowaway, I suppose, could
we?"

"Dicky Bell did that once," the other answered. "Sir Timothy has only
one way with intruders. He was thrown into the river and jolly nearly
drowned."

The two men passed out of hearing.

"I wonder what part the launch plays in the night's entertainment,"
Wilmore observed.

Francis shrugged his shoulders.

"I have given up wondering," he said. "Margaret, do you hear that
music?"

She laug