I have at any rate been accepted," Dominey declared, "by my nearest
living relative, and incidentally I have discovered the one far-seeing
person in England who knows what is in store for us."

Seaman was momentarily anxious.

"Whom do you mean?"

"The Duke of Worcester, my cousin's husband, of whom you were speaking
just now."

The little man's face relaxed.

"He reminds me of the geese who saved the Capitol," he said, "a
brainless man obsessed with one idea. It is queer how often these
fanatics discover the truth. That reminds me," he added, taking a small
memorandum book from his waistcoat pocket and glancing it through. "His
Grace has a meeting to-night at the Holborn Town Hall. I shall make one
of my usual interruptions."

"If he has so small a following, why don't you leave him alone?" Dominey
enquired.

"There are others associated with him," was the placid reply, "who
are not so insignificant. Besides, when I interrupt I advertise my own
little hobby."

"These--we English are strange people," Dominey remarked, glancing
around the room after a brief but thoughtful pause. "We advertise
and boast about our colossal wealth, and yet we are incapable of
the slightest self-sacrifice in order to preserve it. One would have
imagined that our philosophers, our historians, would warn us in
irresistible terms, by unanswerable scientific deduction, of what was
coming."

"My compliments to your pronouns," Seaman murmured, with a little bow.
"Apropos of what you were saying, you will never make an Englishman--I
beg your pardon, one of your countrymen--realise anything unpleasant.
He prefers to keep his head comfortably down in the sand. But to leave
generalities, when do you think of going to Norfolk?"

"Within the next few days," Dominey replied.

"I shall breathe more freely when you are securely established
there," his companion declared. "Great things wait upon your complete
acceptance, in the country as well as in town, as Sir Everard Dominey.
You are sure that you perfectly understand your position there as
regards your--er--domestic affairs?"

"I understand all that is necessary," was the somewhat stiff reply.

"All that is necessary is not enough," Seaman rejoined irritably.
"I thought that you had wormed the whole story out of that drunken
Englishman?"

"He told me most of it. There were just one or two points which lay
beyond the limits where questioning was possible."

Seaman frowned angrily.