m thoroughly on to the whole
show, you'll understand that this high-and-mighty business doesn't go
down. Got any champagne left? I'm as dry as a bone."

The Bishop was rapidly turning purple with suppressed indignation, but
Miss Arminster scornfully indicated the location of the wine-cooler.

"Ah, thanks," said the intruder, tossing off a glass. "That's better."
And he threw himself comfortably down on a divan, saying, as he did so:

"If you two have any weapons, you might as well put them on the table.
Resistance is quite useless. I've plenty of men awaiting my signal on
deck."

Violet, who in the light of this last remark suddenly understood the
position, burst into peals of laughter.

"You'll find it's no laughing matter," cried the journalist angrily.

"I insist upon your instantly explaining your outrageous conduct," said
the Bishop.

"I can do that in a very few words," replied Marchmont. "As an American
representative, and authorised agent of the _Daily Leader_, the people's
bulwark of defence, I arrest you both as Spanish spies."

"He must be mad!" ejaculated his Lordship.

"Oh, no, he isn't. He actually believes it!" cried Violet between her
paroxysms of merriment. But her companion would not be convinced.

"My dear man," he said blandly, "you must be suffering under some
grievous delusion. I am, as you should know, having been my guest, the
Bishop of Blanford, and it is quite impossible that either I or this
lady should have any connection with a political crime. I must insist
that you release us at once, and go away quietly, or I shall be forced
to use harsher measures."

"You do it very well, very well indeed," commented the journalist. "But
you can't fool me, and so you'd better give up trying."

"I say," remarked Miss Arminster to Marchmont, "you're making an awful
fool of yourself."

The representative of the _Daily Leader_ shrugged his shoulders.

"Won't you consent to let us go, without threshing the whole thing out?"
she asked.

"What do you take me for?"

"Well, as you please," she said resignedly. "Put your questions; we'll
answer them."

"Is it best to humour him?" enquired his Lordship in a low voice.

"It's the only way," she replied. "Give him string enough, and see the
cat's-cradle he'll weave out of it."

"Now," said the journalist cheerfully to the Bishop, "perhaps you'll
deny that you spent a month or six weeks in the United States this
spring?"

"A month," acquiesce