me in
quest of sympathy. "I have come to you at the first moment, damn you!"
he burst out, in full rebellion. "And you'll use me civilly now that I
am come, or--ecod!--it'll be the worse for your lordship."

Rotherby considered him through a faint mist that rage had set before
his eyes. To be so spoken to--damned indeed!--by a dirty spy! Had he
been alone with the man, there can be little doubt but that he would
have jeopardized his very precarious future by kicking Mr. Green
downstairs. But his mother saved him from that rashness. It may be that
she saw something of his anger in his kindling eye, and thought it well
to intervene.

She set a hand on his sleeve. "Charles!" she said to him in a voice that
was dead cold with warning.

He responded to it, and chose discretion. He looked Green over,
nevertheless. "I vow I'm very patient with you," said he, and Green
had the discretion on his side to hold his tongue. "Come, man, while we
stand talking here that knave may be destroying precious evidence."

And his lordship went quickly down the stairs, Mr. Green following hard
upon his heels, and her ladyship bringing up the rear.

At the door of the library Rotherby came to a halt, and turned the
handle. The door was locked. He beckoned a couple of footmen across the
hall, and bade them break it open.

CHAPTER XX. Mr. CARYLL'S IDENTITY

"I must see Lord Ostermore!" had been Mr. Caryll's wild cry, as he
strode to the door.

From the other side of it there came a sound of steps and voices. Some
one was turning the handle.

Hortensia caught Mr. Caryll by the sleeve. "But the letters!" she cried
frantically, and pointed to the incriminating papers which he had left,
forgotten, upon the desk.

He stared at her a moment, and memory swept upon him in a flood. He
mastered the wild agitation that had been swaying him, thrust the paper
that he was carrying into his pocket, and turned to go back for the
treasonable letters.

"The taper!" he exclaimed, and pointed to the extinguished candle on the
floor. "What can we do?"

A sharp blow fell upon the lock of the door. He stood still, looking
over his shoulder.

"Quick! Make haste!" Hortensia admonished him in her excitement. "Get
them! Conceal them, at least! Do the best you can since we have not the
means to burn them."

A second blow was struck, succeeded instantly by a third, and something
was heard to snap. The door swung open, and Green and Rotherby sprang