"On this particular night there was to be an imposing list of guests, the dinner being served at eight-thirty sharp. Not only was the Prime Minister expected, but a special collection of social freaks had been invited to meet him, including Prince Pompernetski of the Imperial Guards--who turned out afterward to be a renegade Pole and a swindler; the Rajah of Bramapootah--a waddling Oriental who always brought his Cayenne pepper with him in the pocket of his embroidered pajamas; one or two n.o.ble lords and their wives, some officers, and a scattering of lesser lights--twenty-two in all.

"At eight-twenty the carriages began to arrive, the Bobby on the beat regulating the traffic; the guests stepping out upon a carpet a little longer and wider than the one Mr. Woods has laid over the sidewalk downstairs.

"Once inside, the guests were taken in charge by a line of flunkeys--the women to a cloak room on the right, the men to a bas.e.m.e.nt room on the left--where 'Chawles' handed each man an envelope containing the name of the lady he was to take out to dinner and a diagram designating the location of his seat at his host's table.

"By eight-twenty-five all the guests had arrived except General Sir John Catnall and Lady Catnall, who had pa.s.sed thirty years of their life in India and who had arrived in London but the night before, where they were met by one of Lady Arbuckle's notes inviting them to dinner to meet the Prime Minister. That the dear woman had never laid eyes on the Indian exiles and would not know either of them had she met them on her sidewalk made no difference to her. The butler in announcing their names would help her over this difficulty, as he had done a hundred times before. That the short notice might prevent their putting in an appearance did not trouble her in the least. She knew her London. Prime Ministers were not met with every day, even in the best of houses.

"At eight-thirty the two missing guests arrived, Sir John sun-baked to the color of a coolie, and Lady Catnall not much better off so far as complexion was concerned. The climate had evidently done its work. Their queerly cut clothes, too, showed how long they had been out of London.

"With their announcement by the flunkey, who bawled out their names so indistinctly that n.o.body caught them--not even Lady Arbuckle--the guests marched out to dinner, Lord Arbuckle leading with the wife of the Prime Minister; Lady Arbuckle bringing up the rear with the Rajah, without that lady having the dimmest idea as to whether all her guests were present or not.

"Sir John found himself next to a Roumanian woman who had spent three-quarters of her life in Persia, and Lady Catnall sat beside a bald-headed scientist from Berlin who spoke English as if he were cracking nuts. None of the four had ever heard of the others' existence.

"The dinner was the usual deadly dull affair. The Prime Minister smiled and beamed over his high collar and emitted plat.i.tudes that anybody could print without getting the faintest idea of his meaning; and the Rajah peppered and ate with hardly a word of any kind to the lady next him, who talked incessantly; the Scientist jabbered German, completely ignorant of the fact that Lady Catnall could not understand a word of what he said, and the other great personages--especially the women--looked through their lorgnons and studied the menagerie.

"When the port had been served and the ladies had risen to leave the men to their cigars, Sir John Catnall conducted the Roumanian-Persian combination to the drawing-room door, clicked his heels, bent his back in a salaam, and with a certain anxious look on his face hurried back to the dining-room, and seeing the seat next Lord Arbuckle temporarily empty slid into it, laid his bronzed hand on his host's thin, white, blue-veined wrist, and said in a voice trembling with suppressed emotion:

"'We got your wife's note and came at once, although our boxes are still unpacked. I could hardly get through the dinner I have been so anxious, but we arrived so late I could not ask your wife--indeed you were already moving in to dinner when your man brought us in. I am in London, as you know, to consult an oculist, for my eyesight is greatly impaired, and he called professionally just as I was leaving my lodgings.' Then bending over Lord Arbuckle he said in a voice tremulous with emotion, 'Tell me now about Eliza; is she really as badly off as your wife thinks?'

"Arbuckle had learned one thing during his long life with Catherine, never, as you Americans say, to 'give her away.' The ident.i.ty of the partly blind, sunburned man, with half a cataract over each eye, who was gazing at him so intently awaiting an answer from his lips, was as much of a mystery to him as was the particular malady with which the unknown Eliza was afflicted or the contents of his wife's letter. Instantly Lord Arbuckle's face took on a grave and serious expression.

"'Yes,' he answered slowly; 'yes, I regret to say that it is all true.'

"'Good G.o.d!' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the stranger, 'you don't say so. Terrible!

Terrible!' and without another word he rose from his seat, tarried for a moment at the mantel gazing into the coals, and then slowly rejoined the ladies.

"When the last guest had departed Arbuckle, who had been smothering a fire of indignation over the stranger's inquiry and at the uncomfortable position in which his wife had placed him, owing to her never consulting him about her guests or her correspondence, shut the door of the drawing-room so the servants could not hear and burst out with:

"'What d.a.m.ned nonsense it is, Catherine, to invite people who bore you to death with questions you can't answer! Who the devil is Eliza, and what's the matter with her?'

"'Who wanted to know, my dear?'

"'That horribly dressed, red-faced person who sat half-way down the table, next to that frightful frump in a turban from Persia.'

"'I don't know any Eliza!'

"'But you said you did.'

"'I said I did?'

"'Yes; he told me so. You wrote him! Now be good enough, Catherine, to let me know in advance who you----'

"'But I never told anybody about Eliza; never heard of her.'

"'You did, I tell you. You told that fellow who winks all the time, with some beastly thing the matter with his eyes.'

"'You mean Sir John Catnall? The man who came in just as we were going in to dinner? That is, I suppose it was he. Barton told me we were waiting for him.'

"'Yes; the fellow said he was late.'

"'And he told you--' Here the door opened and the butler entered for her Ladyship's orders for the night.

"'Barton, whom did you announce last?'

"'I didn't catch the name, your Ladyship, quite.'

"'Was it Sir John Catnall and Lady Catnall?'

"'No, your Ladyship. Something that began with P.'

"'Are you sure it was not "Catnall"?'

"'Quite sure, your Ladyship. Sir John's man was here just after dinner was announced and left a message, your Ladyship--I forgot to give it to you. He said Sir John had been out of town, and had that moment received your Ladyship's note, and that it was impossible for him to come to dinner. I supposed your Ladyship had known of it and had invited the gentleman and his lady who came last to take their places, and I put them in Sir John's and Lady Catnall's seats as it was marked on the diagram you gave Chawles.'

"'Just as I supposed, Catherine,' snorted Arbuckle, 'a couple of d.a.m.ned impostors; one pa.s.sing himself off as a blind man. Serves you right.

They've carried off half the plate by this time. Bingeley lost all of his spoons and forks that way last week; he told me so in the House yesterday.'

"'Impostors! You don't think--Barton, go down instantly and see if anything has been taken out of the cloak-room. And, Barton, see if that miniature with the jewels around the frame is where I left it on the mantel--and the candlesticks--Oh! you don't think--It can't be--Oh, dear--dear--dear!'

"Again the door opened and Barton appeared.

"'The candlesticks are all right, your Ladyship; but the miniature is gone. I looked everywhere. Chawles said it was taken to your room by the maid.'

"'Ring for Prodgers at once.'

"'I have, your Ladyship. Here she comes with it in her hand,' and he handed the jeweled frame to his mistress.

"'Oh, I'm so thankful! You're sure nothing else is missing?'

"'No, your Ladyship; but Chawles found this note on the mantel, which he says he picked up from the table after they had left.'

"Lord Arbuckle craned his head and his wife eagerly scanned the inscription.

"On the envelope, scrawled in pencil, were the three words: 'For dear Eliza.'

"Lady Arbuckle broke the seal.

"Out dropped two twenty-pound Bank of England notes."

The Irishman rose to his feet, pushed back his chair, and taking a briarwood from his pocket and a small bag of tobacco proceeded to fill his pipe.

Mac broke the silence first:

"Case of wrong house, wasn't it? I wonder Catnall didn't find it out before dinner was over."

"Put Arbuckle in a bad hole," remarked Boggs. "What excuse could he make when he returned the money?"