I shrugged my shoulders.

"Too much self-confidence, too little belief in the possibility of the unusual," I answered.

"Suppose you appoint me arbitrator," Gilbert suggested.

I shook my head.

"I cannot, Gilbert," I answered. "As I have said, the issue is between Lord Polloch and myself, and I hope to Heaven that Lord Polloch is in the right, or there will be trouble."

"You are extraordinarily mysterious," Gilbert remarked.

"I must seem so," I answered, "I cannot help it. Have a drink, Gilbert, and wish me G.o.d speed!"

"Are you off back to Medchestershire to-night?" Gilbert asked.

I shook my head.

"No! but I thought of running over to the States next week."

Gilbert laid down his cigar, and looked at me anxiously.

"Have you seen a doctor lately, Hardross?" he asked.

"Not necessary," I answered. "I'm as fit as I can be!"

"Then will you tell me," he asked, "why, with the shooting just on, and the hunting in full view, you are talking of going to America?"

"I've had a good many years of hunting and shooting and cricket and sport of all sorts, Gilbert," I answered. "Perhaps I'm not quite so keen as I was."

"If you are not going to America for sport," my cousin asked, "what are you going for?"

I rose to my feet.

"Gilbert," I said, "it's no use. Some day or other you will know all about it--perhaps very soon. But, for the present, I can tell you nothing. I've stumbled into a queer place, and I've got to get out of it somehow. Wish me good luck, old chap!" I added, holding out my hand; "and--if anything should happen to me abroad--look after the old place--it'll be yours, you know, every stick and stone."

Then I got away as soon as I could. Gilbert was by way of becoming incoherent, and, so far as I was concerned, there was nothing more to be said.

CHAPTER XX

TRAVELLING COMPANIONS

I locked the door of my state-room, and seated myself upon the edge of the lower bunk with a little sigh of relief. The slow pounding of the engines had commenced, the pulse of the great liner was beating, and through the port-hole I could see the docks, with their line of people, gliding past us. We were well out in the Mersey already.

"We're off, Guest!" I exclaimed, "and off safely, too, I think. Chuck that now, there's a good fellow."

Guest was engaged in emptying the contents of one of my bags. He turned slowly round and faced me, with a pair of my trousers upon his arm.

"I shall do nothing of the sort," he answered calmly. "I am here as your servant, Courage, and your servant I intend to remain. We can't hope to keep the thing up on the other side, if we are all the time drifting back to our old relations. I wish I could make you understand this."

I opened the port-hole as far as it would go, and lit a cigarette.

"That's all very well," I said; "but I don't see any need to keep the farce up in private, and I'm sure I can unpack my own things a thundering sight better than you can."

"Very likely," he answered, "but you certainly won't do it. Can't you understand that, unless we grow into our parts, they will never come naturally to us? Besides, we may be watched. You cannot tell."

"The door is locked," I remarked dryly.

"For the moment, no doubt, we're all right," Guest answered; "but you won't be able to lock it often upon the voyage. Remember that we are up against a system with a thousand eyes and a thousand ears. It's no good running risks. I am Peters, your man, and Peters I mean to be."

"Do you propose," I asked, "to have your meals in the servants' saloon?"

"Most certainly I do," was the curt answer. "I expect to make acquaintances there who will be most useful. Did you get the pa.s.sengers'

list?"

I drew it from my pocket. Guest came and looked over my shoulder.

Half-way down the list he pointed to a name.

"Mr. de Valentin and valet!" he murmured. "That is our friend. I recognize the name. He has used it before! Now let us see."

Again his forefinger travelled down the list--again it paused.

"Mrs. Van Reinberg, and the Misses Van Reinberg! Ah!" he said, "that is the lady whose acquaintance you must contrive to make."

"One of the court?" I asked,

He nodded.

"There are others, of course, but I do not recognize their names. They will sort themselves up naturally enough. Now unlock that door, and go up on deck. The stewards will be in directly for orders."

I rose and stretched out my hand towards the door. Suddenly, from outside, an unexpected sound almost paralyzed me--the sharp, shrill yapping of a small dog!

I felt the color leave my cheeks. Guest looked at me in amazement.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "You're not frightened of a toy terrier, are you?"

I opened the door. Of course, my sudden fear had been absurd. I peered out into the pa.s.sage, and a little exclamation broke from my lips.

Sitting on his haunches just outside, his mouth open, his little, red tongue hanging out, was a small j.a.panese spaniel. There may have been thousands of others in the world, but that one I was very sure, from the first, that I recognized, and I was equally sure that he recognized me. I stared at him fascinated. His bead-like, black eyes blinked and blinked again; and his teeth, like a row of ivory needles, gleamed white from his red gums. He neither growled nor wagged his tail, but it seemed to me that the expression of his aged, puckered-up little face was the incarnation of malevolence. I pointed to him, and whispered hoa.r.s.ely to Guest:

"Her dog!"

"Whose?" he asked sharply.

"Miss Van Hoyt's," I answered.

"Rubbish!" he declared. "There are hundreds of dogs like that."