the country till he got tired, and then turned round and came back.
Obliged to have a valet to show you to your room whether you're sober or
not."

"I didn't know," said Cecil drily, "that you possessed an extensive
acquaintance in ecclesiastical circles in this country."

"Oh, yes," said Marchmont, "I served as valet for six months to a bishop
while I was gathering materials for my articles on 'English Sees Seen
from the Inside.'"

"Was it a financial success?" queried Banborough.

"No," admitted the reporter regretfully, "it sold the paper splendidly,
but was stopped at the second article at the request of the American
ambassador."

"Did you favour us with a visit?"

"I hadn't that honour."

"If you had done so you would probably have slept in the rooms we give
to our American guests in the new part of the house."

"How old is that?" queried the journalist.

"About eight hundred years," replied Cecil, "and the walls are four feet
thick."

"I know," said the reporter, "It's appalling. That sort of thing always
upsets me. It seems so out of keeping with the _Daily Leader_."

"Look here, Marchmont, why have you come to Blanford?" demanded
Banborough, abruptly changing the conversation.

"To have the joy of your society," returned the journalist.

"If that were really the case I'd be delighted to see you," said the
Englishman. "But you're on the track of these unfortunate people who are
my guests; and if you make things disagreeable for them I shan't have
the slightest compunction in forbidding you the house."

The American, apparently ignoring the other's frankness, remarked:

"So you admit they're conspirators?"

"I admit nothing of the kind. They're perfectly innocent of the charge
you bring against them, and you've been making an awful ass of yourself,
if you only knew it."

"Ah, thank you. But if this is the case why didn't you mention the fact
to me in Montreal?"

"I had my reasons."

"And why are all these people received as honoured guests in your
father's palace?"

"That, if you'll permit me to say so, Marchmont, is a matter that
doesn't concern you."

"Everything concerns me. Not that I expect you to see that point of
view. But to put it another way. Considering all I've done to increase
the sale of your book, won't you do me a good turn and tell me what you
know about this affair?"

"I wish the confounded book had never sold a copy!" burst out
Banborough. "And I'll not say one wo