"She's a-a _creature_," Sybil Hanbury exclaimed, viciously. "Thank goodness, I don't know her; but I've heard all about her from Alec. The poor boy can't abide her; she makes eyes at him so unblushingly."

"Then we can appreciate your sentiments about her," remarked the General with the flicker of a smile. "How did we come to know this lady?" he added to his wife.

Mrs. Sadgrove explained that she had been asked as a favor to call on Mrs. Talmage Eglinton by a mutual acquaintance, a certain Lady Roseville, but had regretted it ever since. Their intercourse had, however, been of the slightest, being confined to the interchange of a couple of formal visits, and to an invitation by Mrs. Sadgrove to a musical "at home," at which Mrs. Talmage Eglinton had endeavored to embark on a flirtation with Alec Forsyth.

"She's a rich widow, I believe; and I don't think she would ever have been heard of if the Rosevilles hadn't taken her up," Mrs. Sadgrove concluded.

The series of grunts with which the General received this information had hardly ceased when again the footman appeared in the doorway and announced, with all due importance:

"His Grace the Duke of Beaumanoir."

The occupants of the drawing-room were all accustomed to the "usages of polite society," either in Britannic or Transatlantic form; but it was impossible for them to repress a flutter of excitement as the visitor entered, his original "cavalry swing" marred but not wholly obliterated by his limp. Leonie tried hard not to blush, and failed. Mrs. Sherman interlaced her fingers nervously. Sybil Hanbury stared hard at the cousin whose stately town house she was occupying, and who had waved a magic wand over her lover's prospects. Mrs. Sadgrove was the graceful and interested hostess, and the General-well, the General was surprised for once into a start which was only invisible because n.o.body was looking at him.

Beaumanoir's manner was perfectly easy and self-possessed, but there was a hara.s.sed look in his eyes which did not entirely fade as he responded to his welcome. But it was not that which had caused the General to start.

_The Duke was the man whom he had seen knocked down by Mrs. Talmage Eglinton's carriage, to the imminent peril of his life._

The "wash and brush-up" had been effectual as regards the ducal garments, but they could not hide the black silk sling in which he carried his left arm. It was General Sadgrove's way to allow events to shape themselves, and saying nothing of the scene he had witnessed as he welcomed the distinguished visitor, he waited for the Duke to refer to his mishap himself.

But no. The victim of the accident was apparently as much inclined to reticence as had been the fair cause of it. It was Mrs. Sherman who unconsciously provoked the mendacious statement which stimulated the General's curiosity.

"I'm afraid that your Grace has hurt your hand," said the Senator's wife, pointing to a broad strip of diachylon plaster that ran from the Duke's wrist to the ball of his thumb.

"Yes, I-I grazed it rather badly against the wheel in getting out of a cab," Beaumanoir replied with a momentary loss of his self-possession.

The discomposure pa.s.sed at once, and only the observer on the hearth-rug noticed it. The same shrewd observer presently perceived that the visitor was definitely leading the conversation to the subject of the arrival in England of Senator Sherman; and, more than that, that he was waxing a shade more inquisitive than good-breeding allowed as to the nature of the senatorial journey.

"Ah! he's coming on political business, I think you told me?" the Duke remarked in a half-tone of interrogation on Leonie saying that her father, according to advices received that morning, was to sail in two days' time on the _Campania_, and would be due at Liverpool early in the following week.

"Well, it's political business in a way," Mrs. Sherman struck in. "My husband is coming over in charge of a large amount of Government securities, which are to be deposited at the Bank of England against a shipment of English gold to the United States."

"He's got the opening he wanted. Now, what on earth is he going to do with it?" said the General to himself as he watched keenly.

"Rather a dangerous mission, I should say," was the Duke's comment on the information imparted to him.

"Dangerous! How can that be?" Leonie exclaimed, wondering. "United States Treasury bonds are not explosive."

"No, but the world is full of sharps, Miss Sherman, and some of them might fancy having a shy for such a haul," said Beaumanoir with a trace more of earnestness than the occasion seemed to require. "If I had a relative starting on such an errand, I should be inclined to cable him to-ah-to look out for himself," he added in direct appeal to Mrs.

Sherman.

But the good lady laughed the suggestion to scorn, alleging playfully that "it would be as much as her place was worth" to tackle the Senator that way. It would be a hint that he wasn't able to take care of himself or of his charge, and would be resented accordingly.

The Duke abandoned the subject, but the General noted the disappointment in the tired eyes.

"His Grace knows something. Let's see-he was on his beam-ends when he was unearthed in New York," the old hunter of Thugs and Dacoits muttered under his gray mustache.

Beaumanoir made no long stay after his ineffectual effort to sound a warning note. There had been no opportunity for individual talk; but in saying his adieus he had two words with Sybil, who had been observing her cousin quite as intently as, and a good deal more openly than, the General.

"I'm going to look Alec up now, at his diggings in John Street," he said. "Probably I shall ask him to put me up to-night."

"It's a shame that you should have to do so," Sybil blurted in her boyish fashion. "You've been awfully good to us. I ought to have cleared out of Beaumanoir House at once, and I'll 'git' as soon as ever I can make other arrangements."

"I beg you'll do nothing of the kind," Beaumanoir made genial answer.

"Alec is about the only friend I have, and-and I need a friend, Cousin Sybil. It has been a pleasure to serve him and you-if it can be called serving you," he added with a thoughtful gravity that puzzled the girl.

She shook hands with a warmth that bespoke the death of old prejudices, and General Sadgrove, who had hardly exchanged two words with his visitor, accompanied him to the hall-door.

"Are you walking, Duke? Or shall I whistle a cab?" he asked.

Beaumanoir looked up the street and down the street, and gave a queer little shrug.

"It won't make any difference whether I walk or drive," he said.

"Good-bye, General."

Having gazed the limping figure out of sight, the General went back into the house and made for his private den-a cozy apartment crammed with Eastern spoils. There he leisurely selected a cigar and seated himself in a big saddle-bag chair.

"There is something brewing," he growled gently. "I perceive a vibration in the moral atmosphere which quite recalls old days. I wonder what it means?"

CHAPTER VII-_The Men on the Stairs_

The rooms-two in number-occupied by Alec Forsyth in John Street, Adelphi, were in a house let off in bachelor chambers, with the exception of the ground floor, which was used as an office by a firm of wholesale wine-merchants. The young Scotsman's limited income had precluded a more aristocratic locality; and, at any rate, John Street offered the advantage of being within a few minutes' walk of his daily work in Downing Street.

In the daytime, when the tenants were out at their various avocations, the upper part of the dingy old building was deserted, save by the housekeeper in the attics; while the counting-house ab.u.t.ting on the street was all life and bustle. At night the conditions were reversed, the wine-merchant's premises being locked up and silent, and the rooms above occupied.

On the evening of that Monday on which the Duke of Beaumanoir called on the Shermans at the residence of General Sadgrove, Alec was busy in his sitting-room, tearing up papers and preparing generally for his departure to Prior's Tarrant on the morrow. It was past eight, and he had just lit the gas, when the door suddenly opened and Beaumanoir came in.

"Why, Charley-hang it! Duke, I mean-I thought you were in the country!"

Alec exclaimed, more astonished by his friend's actions than by his appearance there.

For, after slipping quietly in, Beaumanoir had turned sharp round and loosed the catch of the spring-lock. Not satisfied with that, he also shot home the two old-fashioned bolts with which the door was fitted, top and bottom, and then flung himself into an easy chair, mopping his brow with his handkerchief.

"I don't think I was spotted, but it's best to be on the safe side," he muttered. Then aloud: "I came to ask you to give me a shake-down to-night, old chap, on a sofa or anything; only I don't know if it's fair to you; my proximity carries a pretty considerable risk. But I've been-rather worried, and I seem to want company."

Forsyth rose, and laid an affectionate hand on the Duke's shoulder.

"Now, look here," he said, firmly. "I'm going to forget that you're my employer at a generous salary, and remember only that I'm your friend.

What does all this mean? You've been hurt somehow, too. Just make a clean breast of it, and let's see what can be done."

Beaumanoir shook his head sadly.

"I can't make a clean breast of it," he began; then pulled up short and went on. "At least, I can't tell you causes, but I'll tell you effects.

My life has been attempted twice certainly, possibly three times, since noon yesterday."

"How?" said Alec with Scotch brevity.