. I
have been driven to explore, quite fruitlessly, the whole of your
little domain, in the vain search for a match."

He pointed to the unlit cigarette between his fingers. Arnold, who
was a little dazed, rose and produced a box of matches.

"But I don't understand how it is that you are here!" he exclaimed.
"I thought that you were at Brighton. And how did you get in?"

Sabatini seated himself comfortably at the end of the sofa and
placed a cushion behind his head.

"We came up from Brighton this afternoon," he explained, puffing
contentedly at his cigarette. "I am now pronounced convalescent.
Ruth, too, could throw away her stick any moment she wanted to, only
I fancy that she thinks its use becoming."

"But," Arnold persisted, "I don't understand how you got in! You
know that I am glad to see you."

"I got in with Ruth's key, of course," Sabatini replied.

Arnold leaned against the back of the sofa.

"I had forgotten," he said. "Of course, if I had known that you had
been coming, I would have been here. The accountant brought in the
result of our last six months' work this afternoon, and Mr. Jarvis
insisted upon a little celebration. We had dinner together."

Sabatini nodded.

"So you have been successful," he remarked, thoughtfully. "You kept
your feet along the narrow way and you have done well. I am glad.
Sit down here by my side."

Arnold sat down on the end of the sofa. The curtain was pulled up as
far as it would go. Below them, the curving arc of lights stretched
away to the dim distance. Sabatini followed them with his eyes, for
a moment, as though he, too, found something inspiring in that
lighted way. Then he turned to Arnold with a queer little twinkle in
his eyes.

"By the bye," he asked, "you haven't heard--Fenella hasn't told you
of the last turn in fortune's wheel?"

"I have seen little of Mrs. Weatherley lately," Arnold murmured.

Sabatini leaned back in his place. His hollow eyes were lit now with
laughter, his mouth twitched. The marks of his illness seemed almost
to pass.

"It is delicious," he declared. "Listen. You remember that one day
when you dined with me I told you of my uncle the Cardinal?"

"The uncle from whom you borrowed money?" Arnold remarked, dryly.

"Precisely," Sabatini agreed; "I borrowed money from him! It was
only a trifle but I chose my own methods. Heavens, but it is droll!"

Sabatini began to laugh softly. His whole face now was alight with
enjoyment.