"Oh, it's nothing serious. I will tell you all about it when matters have cleared a bit. It is a mere item in a really big story. But, here we are. Take me straight to the supper-room."

As they entered the comfortable, brightly lit club the strains of a band came pleasantly to their ears, and in a minute they were installed at a corner table in the splendid room devoted to the most cheery of all gatherings--a Bohemian meal when the labors of the night are past.

Bruce soon marked his quarry. Jane Harding was in great form--eating, drinking, and talking at the same time.

"Who is that, Billy?" he said, indicating the girl.

Sadler carefully balanced his _pince-nez_ on his well-defined nose, gazed, and laughed: "Goodness knows. She's a new-comer, and not much at the best. Do you know where she carries a banner?"

"At the Jollity."

"Oh! then here's our man"--for a Mephistophelian gentleman was pa.s.sing at the moment. "Say, Rosenheim, who's the new coryphee over there?"

Mephistopheles halted, looked at Jane and laughed, too. "Her name is Miss Marie le Marchant; but as she happened to be born in London she p.r.o.nounces it Mahrie Lee Mahshuns, with the accent on the 'Mahs.'

Anything else you would like to know?"

"Yes, I'm stuck on her! Where did you pick her up?"

"She's a housemaid, or something of the sort. Came into money. Wants to knock 'em on the stige. The rest is easy."

"Has she been with you long?" put in Claude, as their informant was the under-manager of the Jollity.

Mr. Rosenheim glanced at him. Sadler, he knew, had no interest in the girl, and the barrister did not quite possess the juvenile appearance that warranted such solicitude.

"She joined us just before Christmas. What's up? Is she really worth a lot of 'oof?"

"I should imagine not," laughed Bruce; and Mr. Rosenheim joined another group.

Supper ended, Marie and Millie, and eke Flossie, attended by their swains, discussed coffee and cognac in the _foyer_.

Chance separated Miss le Marchant, as she may now be known, momentarily from the others, and Bruce darted forward.

"Good-evening," he said. "I am delighted to meet you here."

The girl recognized him instantly. She would have denied her ident.i.ty, but her nerve failed her before those steadfast, penetrating eyes.

Moreover, it was not an ill thing for such a well-bred, well-dressed man to acknowledge her so openly.

"Good-evening, Mr. Bruce," she said, with a smile of a.s.surance, though her voice faltered a little.

He resolved to make the situation easy.

"We have not met for such a long time," he said; "and I am simply dying to have a talk with you. I am sure your friends will pardon me if I carry you off for five minutes to a quiet corner."

With a simper, Miss le Marchant took his proffered arm, and they went off to an unoccupied table.

"Now, Jane Harding," said he, with some degree of sternness in his manner, "be good enough to explain to me why you are pa.s.sing under a false name, and the reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles d.y.k.e's house in such a particularly disagreeable way."

"Disagreeable? I only left in a hurry. Who had any right to stop me?"

"No one, in a sense, except that Sir Charles d.y.k.e may feel inclined to prosecute you."

"For what, Mr. Bruce?"

This emanc.i.p.ated servant girl was not such a simpleton as she looked. It was necessary to frighten her and at the same time to force her to admit the facts with reference to her sensational flight from Wensley House.

"You must know," he said, "that Sir Charles d.y.k.e can proceed against you in the County Court to recover wages in lieu of notice, and this would be far from pleasant for you in your new surroundings."

"Yes, I know that. But why should Sir Charles d.y.k.e, or you, or any other gentleman, want to destroy a poor girl's prospects in that fashion?"

"Surely, you must feel that some explanation is due to us for your extraordinary behavior?"

"No, I don't feel a bit like it."

"But why did you go away?"

"To suit myself."

"Could you not have given notice? Why was it necessary to create a further scandal in addition to the disappearance of your unfortunate mistress?"

"I am sorry for that. It was thoughtless, I admit. If I had to act over again I should have done differently. But what does it matter now?"

"It matters this much--that the police must be informed of your existence, as they are searching for you, believing that you are in some way mixed up with Lady d.y.k.e's death."

The girl started violently, and she flushed, rather with anger than alarm, Bruce thought, as he watched her narrowly.

"The police, indeed," she snorted; "what have the police to do with me?

A nice thing you're saying, Mr. Bruce."

"I am merely telling you the naked truth."

"All right. Tell them. I don't care a pin for them or you. Have you anything else to say, because I wish to join my friends?"

The girl's language and att.i.tude mystified him more than any preceding feature of this remarkable investigation. She was, of course, far better educated than he had imagined, and the difference between the hysterical witness at the coroner's inquiry and this pert, self-possessed young woman was phenomenal.

Rather than risk an open rupture, the barrister temporized. "If you are anxious to quarrel with me, by all means do so," he said; "but that was not my motive in speaking to you here to-night."

Miss le Marchant shot a suspicious glance at him. "Then what was your motive," she said.

"Chiefly to rea.s.sure my friend, your former master, concerning you; and, perhaps, to learn the cause of your very strange conduct."

"Why should Sir Charles bother his head about me?"

"As I have told you. Because of the coincidence between your departure and Lady--"

"Oh yes, I know that." Then she added testily: "I was a fool not to manage differently."

"So you refuse me an explanation?"

"No, I don't. I have no reason to do so. I came in for some money, and as I have longed all my life to be an actress I could not wait an hour, a moment, before I--before I--"