or the
articles--less in wages than in plunder--he was generally sure to obtain
them.

"Where the deuce have you been? This is the third time I have rung! you
ought to be in the anteroom!"

"I beg your lordship's pardon; but I was helping Mr. Maltravers's valet
to find a key which he dropped in the courtyard."

"Mr. Maltravers! Is he at this hotel?"

"Yes, my lord; his rooms are just overhead."

"Humph! Has Mr. Howard engaged a lodging here?"

"No, my lord. He left word that he was gone to his aunt, Lady Jane."

"Ah, Lady Jane--lives at Paris--so she does; Rue Chaussee d'Antin--you
know the House? Go immediately--go yourself; don't trust to a
messenger--and beg Mr. Howard to return with you. I want to see him
instantly."

"Yes, my lord."

The servant went. Lumley was in a mood in which solitude was
intolerable. He was greatly excited; and some natural compunctions at
the course on which he had decided made him long to escape from thought.
So Maltravers was under the same roof! He had promised to give him an
interview next day; but next day he wished to be on the road to London.
Why not have it over to-night? But could Maltravers meditate any hostile
proceedings? Impossible! Whatever his causes of complaint, they were
of too delicate and secret a nature for seconds, bullets, and newspaper
paragraphs! Vargrave might feel secure that he should not be delayed by
any Bois de Boulogne assignation; but it was necessary to _his honour_
(!) that he should not seem to shun the man he had deceived and wronged.
He would go up to him at once,--a new excitement would distract his
thoughts. Agreeably to this resolution, Lord Vargrave quitted his room,
and was about to close the outer door, when he recollected that perhaps
his servant might not meet with Howard; that the secretary might
probably arrive before the time fixed,--it would be as well to leave his
door open. He accordingly stopped, and writing upon a piece of paper,
"Dear Howard, send up for me the moment you arrive: I shall be with Mr.
Maltravers _au second_"--Vargrave wafered the _affiche_ to the door,
which he then left ajar, and the lamp in the landing-place fell clear
and full on the paper.

It was the voice of Vargrave, in the little stone-paved antechamber
without, inquiring of the servant if Mr. Maltravers was at home, which
had startled and interrupted Cesarini as he was about to reply to
Ernest. Each recognized that sharp clear voice; each glanced at t