H. B. Marriott Watson

“ I am sure neither Doris nor myself would willingly give—”
Mr. Swainson thrust him aside with an imperious gesture. “I may say now,” he interrupted with acerbity, “that if I wanted evidence as to what exactly you were I have got it. Anyone who in your position, and with the serious charges hanging over your head, could behave with such flippancy, is capable of anything. Well, I am glad. It makes my task easier, easier of proposal, and easier, I think, of fulfilment. I make you this proposition, Frederick Channing.” ”

“ Swainson sharply. “I am Miss Graham's guardian—or rather I was until, under the conditions of her father's will, she attained the age of twenty-five last December.”
De Lys was understood to murmur that it would be a privilege to be a ward of Mr. Swainson's.
“Come, sir, we are not here to speak flippancies or to beat about the bush,” said Swainson.
“I understood I was here to see Doris,” complained de Lys mildly.
Mr. Swainson examined him under lowered brows, but seemed to find some puzzle. “You are either,” said he austerely, “a remarkably shameless young man or a wonderful fool.” ”

“ You must go,” panted Miss Graham. “There are detectives in the house, and you are to be arrested. Mr. Swainson—”
“But they don't know I'm here,” protested the real Frederick in surprise. “No one can know, for I followed Mr. Swainson's cab in the dark all the way from the Serpentine.”
“You were the man hanging over the bridge,” said de Lys with a sudden inspiration.
“Why, this must be he—this is he,” cried the young man, turning on him fiercely. “He's the detective.” ”

“ I have stumbled into something which does exist, which is not altogether a sham. I am willing to pay.”
“Pay!” she echoed wildly, and was suddenly silent, lost in grief.
“I take it,” said de Lys gently, “that Mr. Swainson was responsible for the advertisements. And I take it also that you are aware what he wants.”
“He wants me to—to break with Mr. Channing,” said the girl sadly.
“Will you please tell me about Mr. Channing?” urged de Lys.
“Mr. Channing is a partner, junior partner, in the firm of Grange & Channing, Solicitors,” said the girl in an even, emotionless voice. ”

“ De Lys mused. There were the elements of a pretty tangle here, and he turned them over. On one thing he was determined—not to give any answer until he had seen Doris. He made this clear forthwith.
“You put me in a difficult position,” he said at last. “My decision affects two lives and for all time. I should like time to consider; and I think you will see that it is only fair that Miss Graham should be considered in this.”
“Good heavens, man, am I not considering her, first and last?” burst out Mr. Swainson, and checked himself. ”

“ Channing.”
De Lys made no movement, and Mr. Swainson's glance went back from him to her.
“Well,” he said dryly, “he came here as Mr. Channing, and does not seem anxious to disclaim the identity, which in the circumstances is rather remarkable.”
“No, no, Mr. Swainson, I assure you there is a mistake. It is not—not Mr. Channing.” She turned to him emotionally.
It was evident he did not credit her for a moment. He smiled sourly. “What do you say to that, sir?” he asked de Lys.
“I never contradict a lady,” said de Lys. ”

“ Her eyes dropped for a moment under his gaze.
“I think I'd better refuse,” he said.
“What is the use of playing with the situation?” she demanded scornfully. “Do you think it is a time for silly masquerades, when you are face to face with real life?” ”

“ I will see her and bring her to you.”
“I think it would be better if we consulted alone,” suggested de Lys.
“Yes,” agreed Mr. Swainson shortly, and went out. He was gone ten minutes, during which the prisoner made a cursory tour of his room, examining books and inspecting pictures to acquaint himself, if possible, with the characters and tastes of the inmates. In the center of the room was a card-table with a box of card-packs open. The click of the door arrested him in the midst of this occupation, and Mr. Swainson reentered, holding the door open for a handsome girl in evening dress. ”

“ Channing to a seat at the card-table, which stood open, and he addressed Miss Graham openly.
“We may as well finish the rubber,” he said evenly.
Once more with feminine quickness Miss Graham obeyed, and took her seat facing the detective and opposite the chair into which Mr. Channing had chanced to drop. De Lys took a pack of cards from the box and began to deal.
“If you would discard from strength, my dear Doris,” he said pleasantly, “you would find it on the whole a better plan. I always do.” ”

“ Swainson looked from one to the other. It was clear he thought he held the trump cards, and that by leaving them together he hoped the woman would persuade the man to accept safety. At any rate he slid from the room, pausing on the threshold only to call his prisoner's attention to the alternative. It was sufficiently dramatic to satisfy de Lys. Voices arose and issued through the opened door, voices from below—the rumble of male voices. ”

“ He walked all the way through Knightsbridge and by Hyde Park until he came to Queen's Gate. Then he turned off into the park where the road divides it from Kensington Gardens and leads over the Serpentine. It was by this time fairly dark, but the lamps were lit, and he could make out the figure of a man leaning over the bridge as he approached it, though he could determine no more than this. ”

“ Channing's face worked and his eyes flashed, but he made no other sign, probably because Miss Graham kicked him under the table.
“No trumps!” announced de Lys, as evenly as if he had been playing in his club. “The advantage of no trumps,” he added, apparently addressing the astonished detective, “is that you score a great deal, if you do score at all, with comparatively poor cards. Do you play bridge?”
“No, sir,” said the detective.
“Ah—a pity. It is a wonderful game, and—”
At this juncture the second detective returned in the company of Mr. Swainson, who gaped upon the party at the table. ”