to Kingley, who opened and read it through without change of
countenance. When he had finished it, however, he laid his cards face
downwards upon the table.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I owe you my most profound apologies. I am called
away at once on a matter of urgent business."

"But this is most annoying," the Prince declared irritably.

"Here comes my saviour," Kingley remarked, as another man entered the
card room. "Henderson will take my place. Glad I haven't to break you
up, after all. Henderson, will you play a rubber?"

The newcomer assented. Nigel Kingley made his adieux and crossed the
room. Immelan watched him curiously.

"What is our friend Kingley's profession?" he enquired.

"He has no profession," Sir Daniel replied. "He has never come into
touch with the sordid needs of these money-grubbing days. He is the
nephew and heir of the Earl of Dorminster."

Immelan looked away from the retreating figure.

"Lord Dorminster," he murmured. "The same Lord Dorminster who was in the
Government many years ago?"

"He was Foreign Secretary when I was Governor of Jamaica," Sir Daniel
answered. "A very brilliant man he was in those days."

Immelan nodded thoughtfully.

"I remember," he said.

Nigel Kingley, on leaving the St. Philip's Club, was driven at once, in
the automobile which he found awaiting him, to a large corner house in
Belgrave Square, which he entered with the air of an habitue. The
waiting major-domo took him at once in charge and piloted him across the
hall.

"His lordship is very much occupied, Mr. Nigel," he announced. "He is
not seeing any other callers. He left word, however, that you were to be
shown in the moment you arrived."

"His lordship is quite well, I hope?"

"Well in health, sir, but worried, and I don't wonder at it," the man
replied, speaking with the respectful freedom of an old servant. "I
never thought I'd live to see such times as these."

A man in the early sixties, still good-looking, notwithstanding a
somewhat worn expression, looked up from his seat at the library table
on Kingley's entrance. He nodded, but waited until the door was closed
behind the retreating servant before he spoke.

"Good of you to come, Nigel," he said. "Bring your chair up here."

"Bad news?" the newcomer enquired.

"Damnable!"

There was a brief silence, during which Nigel, knowing his uncle's
humours, leaned back in his chair and waited. Upon the table was a
little pile of closely w