to forgive him. It was quite touching. I can tell you----"

Playdon affected to search for his pocket-handkerchief.

"Do tell us, or it will be worse for you," cried his mentor.

"Give me time, air, a drink! What you fellows want is a phonograph. Let
me see. Well, Costobell shook Ventnor off at last, with the final
observation that Anstruther's court-martial has been quashed. The next
batch of general orders will re-instate him in the regiment, and it
rests with him to decide whether or not a criminal warrant shall be
issued against his lordship for conspiracy. Do you fellows know what
conspir----?"

"You cuckoo! What did Miss Deane do?"

"Clung to Anstruther like a weeping angel, and kissed everybody all
round when Ventnor got away. Well--hands off. I mean her father,
Anstruther and the stout uncle. Unfortunately I was not on in that
scene. But, for some reason, they all nearly wrung my arm off, and the
men were so excited that they gave the party a rousing cheer as their
rickshaws went off in a bunch. Will no Christian gentleman get me a
drink?"

The next commotion arose in the hotel when Sir Arthur Deane seized the
first opportunity to explain the predicament in which his company was
placed, and the blow which Lord Ventnor yet had it in his power to
deal.

Mr. William Anstruther was an interested auditor. Robert would have
spoken, but his uncle restrained him.

"Leave this to me, lad," he exclaimed. "When I was coming here in the
_Sirdar_ there was a lot of talk about Sir Arthur's scheme, and
there should not be much difficulty in raising all the brass required,
if half what I heard be true. Sit you down, Sir Arthur, and tell us all
about it."

The shipowner required no second bidding. With the skill for which he
was noted, he described his operations in detail, telling how every
farthing of the first instalments of the two great loans was paid up,
how the earnings of his fleet would quickly overtake the deficit in
capital value caused by the loss of the three ships, and how, in six
months' time, the leading financial houses of London, Paris, and Berlin
would be offering him more money than he would need.

To a shrewd man of business the project could not fail to commend
itself, and the Yorkshire squire, though a trifle obstinate in temper,
was singularly clear-headed in other respects. He brought his great
fist down on the table with a whack.

"Send a cable to your company, Sir Arthur," he cried, "and