eave it there to starve? My way 'ud take five
minutes--yours a couple o' days. Well, sir?"

"I suppose you're right," said the soft-hearted Lionel, "but I don't
half like----"

"Don't you worry," struck in Tony, who was beginning to get anxious. "I
tell you what! It's a big chimney and I'm pretty slim. If you'll let me
go up to-night after the pub's closed, Mr. Glew, I'll strip and climb.
Of course we mustn't leave it there, and smothering doesn't appeal to
me."

"You're a decent chap," said Lionel, moved to admiration. Tony modestly
murmured "Not at all," and hoped the landlord was satisfied. But he was
not. The very ideer! One o' his guests a-climbin' the chimney! No! he'd
send the boy up. Hi!

Things were now looking very black in more than one sense, and the
disciple of romance in the chimney had serious thoughts of a descent.
But as the landlord opened his mouth to bellow for the boy, the man from
up-stairs--"Mr. Beckett"--passed the door with his golf-clubs slung over
his shoulder. He looked in and said, "I'm going up to the links, Mr.
Glew. Dinner at seven-thirty, please," in a polished voice that carried
a hint of an alien accent. Then he went on.

Lionel determined to follow. He had been to The Quiet House that morning
and had learned that Miss Arkwright was away. She would be back,
however, about four. The door had been answered by the dumb footman
spoken of by the vicar, who had exhibited one of those dials that stand
on hall tables--"Out--in at...." So Lionel had come back, meaning to
kill a couple of hours at the inn. But when he saw the man "Beckett" it
struck him that he might as well waste those hours on the links. He
might possibly get into conversation with this man, whom he felt sure
was the Turkish ambassador. Every thing pointed to it,--the newspaper
paragraph--the accent--the assumed name (for he had confessed it to the
vicar)--the age. Supposing this to be so, he might be worth watching. If
Beatrice were right in her suspicions and conjectures, it was quite
possible Mizzi would follow him to Shereling and seek an interview.
Mizzi, in point of fact might have already made an assignation--she
might even be waiting on the links! Supposing he found them ... well, at
least he would have verified suspicions, and could chart his course by
certain knowledge. Yes, he would follow on the off chance.

He did not take as long to make up his mind as we have taken to describe
it. The reader, if kindly-he