"Very well," he replied. "Come over to Kettner's. There won't be much of a crowd there at this time of day." And he strove hard to be polite as he steered her across the Strand, though he could have wished himself back at the Foreign Office, with no prospects and no Duke to serve, if Sybil's brave young face had not been in his mind's eye.

At the restaurant Mrs. Talmage Eglinton chose a table in a remote corner of the dining-room and devoted herself to a careful study of the _menu_.

It was not till she had selected her dishes and quizzed the appearance of the other customers that she developed her plan of attack.

"You don't seem at all interested in the fact that I have something to say to you," she began, leaning back and scanning him critically. Her voluptuous style of beauty had never had any attraction for him; to-day it positively repelled.

"My worst enemies have never accused me of being curious," he answered lightly. "Nay, I am not discourteous," he protested, seeing the angry gleam in the fine eyes. "I only mean that I cannot work myself into a fever about a communication the subject of which I am ignorant of."

"Tell me," she said abruptly, "what reason you had for following me from St. Pancras to Bond Street this morning?"

Whatever her motive she was pushing him hard, and Forsyth's presence of mind failed him. He flushed and began to stammer.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _"I am very far from being indifferent to Mrs. Talmage Eglinton."_]

"It is useless to deny it," she cut him short. "I saw you in the cab quite plainly as I entered the shop, and my cabby had previously told me that I was being shadowed. Now, Mr. Forsyth, when a gentleman follows a lady about the streets he either does it because he means her some harm, or because-well, because he is not quite indifferent to her. Which was it in your case?"

This was a poser, and it had to be faced with instant decision. Rapidly reflecting that unless he was then and there prepared to accuse his fair _vis-a-vis_ with complicity with Ziegler there was only one course open to him, he took it promptly. He little thought that within the next forty-eight hours his fate-to live or to die-would depend on the demeanor he then adopted.

"I certainly did not follow you with a bad motive, and-there, a straight question deserves a straight answer-I am very far from being indifferent to you, Mrs. Talmage Eglinton," he said.

After that the amenities flowed in the most friendly channel, though Forsyth suffered agonies, and it required all his skill as an amateur actor of repute to sustain the part of a diffident lover hovering on the brink of a declaration.

In the afternoon they returned to Prior's Tarrant together, outwardly on the best of terms; but, needless to say, Forsyth was still "hovering."

CHAPTER XVII-_Where is the Duke?_

The next day was that set for the arrival of Senator Sherman, though it would be quite late in the afternoon before he could reach Prior's Tarrant from Liverpool. Mrs. Sherman had addressed a letter to him on board the _Campania_, explaining matters and pa.s.sing on a cordial invitation from Beaumanoir that he would join the party on landing.

Latterly there had been an entire absence of the excursions and alarums which had marked the earlier days of the house-party. General Sadgrove and Alec Forsyth had relaxed none of their vigilance, and Azimoolah still ranged the glades of the park, but no more unauthorized artists had put in an appearance, nor had any member of the party suffered from headache, entailing the strange cure of a midnight journey.

On this eventful morning it so happened that the ladies were all a.s.sembled in the breakfast-room before any of the gentlemen were down.

Sybil, presiding at the tea and coffee equipage, was evincing deep interest in Mrs. Talmage Eglinton's narrative of her purchases in London the day before; Mrs. Sherman was wondering to Mrs. Sadgrove whether "Leonidas" would come straight to Prior's Tarrant, or insist on depositing the bonds in the Bank of England first; and Leonie was looking dreamily through the open windows across the park-she was often dreaming nowadays; so was the Duke.

Presently General Sadgrove strode in and took his seat, making no apology, because breakfast was a come-as-you-please meal, and no one was expected to be punctual. But when he had said good-morning all round he glanced uneasily at the vacant places of Beaumanoir and Forsyth. The two young men were usually up and about before anyone.

Mrs. Talmage Eglinton had broken off in the middle of describing a new and ravishing hat to Sybil in order to smile a welcome to the grim old warrior. She was now following the direction of his glance, and commented on it in sprightly fashion.

"The naughty Duke and the naughty Mr. Forsyth!" she purred. "I believe you men keep most frightfully late hours in this house, General. What is it that you do-play cards or gamble with dominoes?"

"No, it's chess," jerked out the General, regarding her impa.s.sively.

"Mate to the King and the Black Queen to move. All that sort of thing, don't you know."

The American widow trilled out a silvery laugh, and the veteran attacked his breakfast. But, looking singularly old this morning, he seemed to have but little appet.i.te, and ate slowly, frowning at the two empty places; and when Alec Forsyth came in alone, and white as a sheet, he was on his legs in a moment.

"Where is the Duke?" the General flung at his nephew.

"I don't know; he's not in his room, and I can't find him anywhere in the nearer gardens," was the reply. "I should like to speak to you for a moment," Forsyth added, with a significant glance at the ladies, who had so far failed to grasp that there was anything serious in a Duke being late for breakfast in his own house.

It needed no second request to bring the General out into the hall. "Now tell me shortly," said the old man as soon as they were alone together.

What Forsyth had to tell did not amount to much. As was his custom, he had gone to Beaumanoir's room as soon as he was dressed, and had found it vacant. As, however, the bed had been slept in, he apprehended nothing wrong, thinking merely that the Duke was smoking an early cigarette on the terrace. Seeing no sign of him there, he extended his search in the grounds, but again with no result. The next step was to question the servants, none of whom had seen their master since the previous day.

The General stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I don't believe that woman knows anything," he said at length. "I was watching her when you came in. She seemed to be surprised, and even disconcerted, by your news."

"Perhaps one of her colleagues has acted independently, or there may be divided counsels in the camp," Forsyth suggested. "In that case--"

"In _any_ case, what we have to do is to find Beaumanoir, dead or alive," the General interrupted. "See here, Alec, you must get a grip on yourself and go in and eat your breakfast calmly-just to prevent a premature panic among the women. I'll go and hunt up Azimoolah. If there has been any stir during the night he is sure to know of it."

But as the General descended the terrace steps he was smitten with inward misgivings on that point. Had his faithful henchman detected anything unusual during the hours of darkness he would, long ere this, have been up to the house to report; besides which, if he had come across any lurking miscreants he would have seen to it that no harm befell the Duke. And here was the Duke missing. The hypothesis was that Azimoolah had either been eluded or had himself fallen a victim to foul play.

Influenced by this fear, the General quickened his pace, and as soon as he reached the wooded portion of the park uttered at frequent intervals his signal for the Pathan to appear. But glade after glade he traversed, scaring the rabbits with his cobra-like hiss, yet the lithe form of Azimoolah nowhere broke through the bushes. The General did not desist till he had thoroughly drawn the coverts, abandoning after a while his strange noises for a systematic scrutiny of the ground. He knew that had Azimoolah been in the park as a live man he would have answered the well-known call by now; whereas if he was lying cold and stark somewhere in the thicket, by patient search alone could he be found.

At the end of a fruitless hour the General went back to the house, realizing that not only the Duke, but the Duke's most capable protector, was missing. The blow was a severe one, for, apart from the ominous mystery of this dual disappearance, a certain scheme that had come to very near maturity was rendered null and void-a scheme that before another day dawned was to have cut the claws of Ziegler and Co. for ever.

There was the bare chance that Beaumanoir might have turned up during his absence, and General Sadgrove covered the ground at his best pace; but he was destined to find no such pleasant surprise in store for him.

Forsyth met him, as he mounted the terrace steps, with the significant inquiry whether he had discovered anything.

"Nothing, and Azimoolah has gone too," was the reply. "Where are the women?"

"In the morning-room; they are not alarmed as yet, only a little uneasy-especially Leonie."

"She would be, but we needn't mind her," the General rejoined, brusquely. "What do you make of Ziegler's understudy?"

"I cannot make much of her," replied Forsyth. "I am inclined to agree with you that she is as much in a fog as the rest of us."

The General grunted, and proposed that they should at once go up and rummage Beaumanoir's room for clues, a course which they instantly adopted. Since the charcoal episode their host had resolutely refused to occupy "the Duke's room," preferring to that grim state apartment a smaller chamber in the corridor where most of the guests were accommodated. Access was gained to it by two different doors, one leading to it through a dressing-room, the other directly opening into it. They chose the latter as being the nearest, and as they entered distinctly heard the swish of a silk skirt in the dressing-room, followed by the soft closing of the dressing-room door.

Alert and bristling like an angry terrier, the General stepped quickly back into the corridor-just in time to see another door gently shut a little farther on.

"You were right, laddie," he said, rejoining Forsyth. "She has been here before us on the same errand. Mrs. Talmage Eglinton is as much bewildered as we are by the turn of events, and she has been trying to arrive at conclusions from an inspection of the Duke's room."

They began their "rummage," which was made easier for them by the fact that the housemaids had not yet paid their morning visit to the room.

The bed had certainly been slept in, and there were also indications that the occupant had made a perfunctory sort of toilet afterwards.

There was fresh lather on a shaving-paper, and soapy water in the wash-basin, to show that Beaumanoir had been able to attend to his person.

"Whatever has happened to him didn't happen here," said the General with decision. "He left this room a free agent, at all events. The question then arises, When and why did he leave it, and has he left the confines of the park?"

"He must have made a cold toilet," said Forsyth. "See, here is the hot water which was brought up for him at eight o'clock this morning, and also the water for his tub."

He stepped outside into the corridor and pointed to a small and a large can that had been placed close outside the door of the dressing-room. By the General's advice the Duke had been in the habit of keeping both doors locked at night, and the cans were never brought in by the servant who called him. A valet had not yet been engaged.

"And there by the wash-stand is the empty can he used overnight," said the General. "Yes, there is the dirty water, in which he washed his hands before going to bed, in the waste-pail. We fix him, then, to having slept for some hours, and to having got up early and left the house in the small hours before anyone was about."

"It looks as if he were playing a lone hand at some game of his own,"

said Forsyth, doubtfully.