"The word 'sw.a.n.k,'" he observed, "is unfamiliar to me; but as we have decided to incorporate it in our plan of campaign, may I suggest, Percy, that you allow your guests to ring the front-door bell before overtaking them?"

"Righto, Dad," said Percy. "But why?"

"Well," continued Mr. Welwyn diffidently, "it has occurred to me that when you have ushered the party into the hall, you might call down the staircase into the bas.e.m.e.nt, distinctly but not ostentatiously, to some one--James, or Thomas--you can address him by any name you please--that there is no need to come up. You see the idea?"

"Dad," declared Percy, shaking his parent affectionately by the hand, "you are a marvel! Why, 'Melia, what's the trouble?"

Amelia, wide-eyed and frightened, was standing in the doorway.

CHAPTER XVIII

DE L'AUDACE, ET ENCORE DE L'AUDACE, ET TOUJOURS DE L'AUDACE!

"Daddy," announced Amelia in a stage whisper, "there's a man downstairs."

"What sort of man?" enquired Mr. Welwyn, rising from his seat and edging carelessly in the direction of his bedroom door.

"A rough-looking man."

"Tell him," said Mr. Welwyn with his hand on the door-handle, "that I am not at home. Percy! Quick! Keep that fellow out!"

But it was too late. A stranger stood in the midst of the House of Welwyn.

He was an elderly, undersized, seedy-looking individual, with a blue chin, a red nose, and a faded theatrical manner. In his hand he held a blue-grey slip of paper. He smiled amiably upon the shrinking figure of the master of the house.

"Don't trouble to exit on my account, sir," he remarked wheezily.

"Who are you?" stammered Mr. Welwyn. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?"

"Name of Welwyn?" enquired the stranger briskly.

"Yes."

"Loosius?"

"Yes."

"Then," announced the stranger, proffering the blue paper, "I must arsk you for your hospitality for a short time--a mere matter o' _form_, of course--until this small account is settled. It's Gandy and c.o.x," he continued chattily: "seventeen-seventeen-six; and I 'm put in possession until it's settled. In other words, 'ere I am, and 'ere I stays until I gets what I came for."

Depositing his frayed headgear upon the piano, the emissary of Gandy and c.o.x was upon the point of selecting a chair, when he became conscious of a sudden pressure upon the nape of his neck.

"Outside!" intimated Percy's voice.

"Pardon me," replied the visitor without moving, "but you touch me at your own risk. I'm put in by the law."

There was a stifled cry from Mrs. Welwyn and the girls.

"The warrant was signed and 'anded to me this morning," continued the representative of Justice, "at ten-thirty exact. It is now in the 'ands of your Pa, young ladies--"

"Law be d.a.m.ned! Out you go!" shouted Percy, whirling the speaker round towards the door.

"Reflect!" urged the broker's man, gently resisting Percy's efforts to eject him by leaning back and digging his heels into the carpet. "What's the good? If you dot me one and fling me out, it merely means fourteen days without the option for a.s.saulting a sheriff's officer in the execution of his duty, on top of the distraint. If you don't believe me," he added, clinging affectionately to the leg of the piano, which he was pa.s.sing at the moment, "go and read the warrant."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "REFLECT!" URGED THE BROKER'S MAN, GENTLY RESISTING PERCY'S EFFORTS TO EJECT HIM]

"He is right, Percy," said Mr. Welwyn. "Leave him alone. A sheriff's officer!" he muttered brokenly to himself, as his son relinquished his endeavour to speed the parting guest. "And I was once Fellow and Tutor!"

"A broker's man!" wailed Mrs. Welwyn, putting an arm round each of her daughters. "And I brought you up respectable, dearies!"

"A broker's man!" echoed Tilly, "and Lady Adela coming here this afternoon!"

This was too much for that unpolished but chivalrous youth Percy.

Something must be done, for Tilly's sake.

"Dad," he said desperately, laying a hand on his father's shoulder, "ain't you got no money nowhere?"

Mr. Welwyn shook his head helplessly.

"Mother?" said Percy.

"I've got about fifteen shillings," said Mrs. Welwyn, brightening up at the prospect of action. "How much did that insect"--she indicated the minion of the law, now warming himself at the fireplace--"say it was?"

"Seventeen-seventeen-six," replied the insect, with the air of one letting off a telling repartee.

"There is n't so much money in all the world!" whispered Amelia despairingly.

"I've got six-and-threepence," said Percy, diving into his pockets.

A thought occurred to Mrs. Welwyn.

"Father," she enquired of the motionless figure on the sofa, "did n't you tell me that Gandy and c.o.x's bill was only a matter of seven pounds?"

"It was, it was," said Mr. Welwyn, "but--I ordered a little more, to keep them quiet."

Mrs. Welwyn, admirable woman, wasted no time in useless reproaches.

Instead, she turned once more upon the broker's man.

"Now, look here," she said; "I want to ask a favour of you. We're expecting company here this afternoon. Will you go away, and come back in the evening?"

"And find the front door bolted!" replied the broker's man affably.

"No, I don't _think_! I prefer to remain. I've been in this profession for some time now--ever since I abandoned _the_ profession, in fact--and I know a thing or two. I'm sorry," he added, "to disoblige a lady, and I hope you won't take offence where none was intended. Try to look on the bright side of things. I might 'ave been a auction."

Percy broke in upon these comfortable words.

"Look here," he said; "will you go away for a quid?"