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The bout had attracted some attention, for the stakes were running high, and eight or nine men were gathered round the players, among them Sir Patrick Gee. I waited while the hand was played out. Tiverton repiqued his opponent, and joyously raked over to his side of the table four tall piles of guineas. It was my first meeting with Brocton. Chance and Margaret had brought us together again.

He gurgled this almost jocosely, as if it were a pet bit of humour. "Do you know where you are going?" I asked solemnly. "To hell," he cried, and, after a spout of blood that spattered me as I leaned over him, went. The carriage stopped and, before I could rise to see why, the door was opened and some one without said politely, "This is indeed a pleasure, Master Wheatman!" It was my lord Brocton.

Of course I said nothing of the other idea that was haunting my thoughts, the idea that Brocton was scheming to get rid of the Colonel altogether. In his lust and anger he might not stick at that, and any kind of encounter with the enemy would serve his turn. The rascals under him were worthy of their commander, a fact of which we had already ample proof.

In a voice husky with feeling and wine, he said, "Surely it is the part of a gracious king to reward such faithful service as that of the noble Earl of Ridgeley and my Lord Brocton."

Gee thought better of it and slipped off like a disturbed night-prowler. "Thank you, my lord," said I very humbly, "for your decision. I hope my unavoidable ignorance entitles me to try again." "Certainly," said he, but with unmistakable uncertainty. I looked round the intent curious circle of faces and then at Brocton.

"And have you tell the sophs," blurted out Nettie Brocton. "Dozia Dalton you have spoiled it all. Didn't you see we had company?" "Never noticed the lovely Juliette. Never mind Julie, you may tell the crowd all you've heard," condescended the redoubtable Dozia. "We enjoyed having you and it is perfectly all right." "Thanks. Come over to our camp some night and I'll do as much for you.

I strode up to him, took him, unresisted, by the scruff of the neck, and then said curtly, "Open the door, Tiverton." The willing little Marquess ran delightedly to do my bidding, and I kicked my lord Brocton into the kennel and out of my life.

"I thought we should have been there by this time, and regularly established at housekeeping," Marion said, as they picked up baskets and bundles and prepared to change cars; "and here we are making another change. This is the third this afternoon, or is it the thirteenth? and who knows where Brocton is or what it is? Is anybody sure that it is in this hemisphere?

"We will call it, for the purposes of our discussion," said Master Freake soothingly, "a letter about certain lands." "Yes! Yes! Certainly! A letter about lands! So it was!" cried the Earl eagerly, and Brocton began to look less like a coward on the scaffold. "Would you prefer any other designation or description, my lords?" inquired Master Freake.

"I am Colonel Waynflete," he answered in level measured tones, "riding on important business of His Majesty's, and my horse was stolen at an inn, some miles back, beyond Stafford. But for the kindness of my Lord Brocton in providing me with another, His Gracious Majesty's affairs would have been badly disarranged.