The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

After ten days, made restless by the constant flow of rumours, and finding himself unable to settle down to anything, Roger decided to return to London. A talk with Droopy soon put him au courantwith the latest information.

On the 12th of November Pitt had proposed Jo the Prince that Parliament should be adjourned for a fortnight, and the Prince had agreed. On the 17th Pitt had asked leave to inform the Prince of the course he proposed to take on the re-assembling of Parliament, but an audience had been refused. On the 24th the Prince had at length inquired if Pitt had any proposals to make and the slighted Prime Minister had retaliated by sending a polite negative.

That same day Fox arrived back in London from Italy. The news of the King's affliction had reached him at Bologna and he had made the return trip in nine days, which was believed to be a record. To his fury he found that Sheridan was not only managing everything for the Prince but actually living in Mrs. Fitzherbert's house, as the bailiffs were in possession of his own. But, although ill from the strain of his journey, the corpulent and flamboyant statesman immediately threw himself into the battle to wrest power from the King's friends, with all his old genius for intrigue.

The struggle now centred round the question whether there were any hopes of the King's recovery or if he was permanently mad; as upon that hinged the form that the Regency should take. Dr. Warren, who was now the King's principal medical attendant, being a Whig and a strong supporter of the Prince, took the blackest view; and his bulletins were received with acclamation at Brook's, from which a virulent campaign of rumour was now launched to persuade the public that there was no chance of the King ever becoming sane again.

But Pitt was determined to protect the future rights of the helpless monarch by every means in his power, so he consulted his father's old friend Dr. Addington, and Addington advised the calling-in of the Reverend Dr. Willis, who, during twenty-eight years, had supervised some nine hundred cases of lunacy at a private asylum in Lincolnshire.

That the King still enjoyed periods of sanity was made clear when his new doctor was presented to him. On being informed that Willis was a clergyman he remarked that he could not approve a minister of the church taking to the practice of medicine. Willis replied that Christ went about healing the sick; to which the King promptly re­torted: "Yes, but I never heard that he got seven hundred a year for doing so."

On the 29th the King was removed to Kew, and Willis reported that he did not consider the case by any means hopeless. But the King's recovery, all hope of which was still denied by his other doctors, could not be expected, even if it occurred at all, for some time to come; so the arrangements to introduce a Regency Bill had to go on.

On December the 5th Pitt moved for a Committee to examine the physicians, and twenty-one members of the House, selected from both parties, were appointed. As was to be expected, the evidence of Doctors Warren and Willis conflicted to such a degree that their statements had little influence on their hearers' previous beliefs and prejudices.

On the 10th the Prime Minister presented the medical evidence and moved for a Committee to investigate precedents. Immediately Fox was on his feet with vehement protest. He denounced the proposal as merely a pretext for delay. The heir-apparent was of mature age and capacity. He had as clear a right to exercise the sovereign power during the King's illness as he would have in case of death. Parliament's only business was to determine when he should assume the reins of government, and that should be settled with the least possible delay.

In his impatience to pull down the government Fox had overreached himself, and the cool, logical brain of Pitt instantly seized upon his enemy's error. Turning to his neighbour he whispered: "I'll un-Whigthe gentleman for the rest of his life." Then he rose to his feet and tore the demagogue to shreds; asserting that he advocated a breach of the constitution by implying that the House had not even the right to debate the question.

From this a most extraordinary situation arose. The Whigs, who for well over a century had claimed to be the defenders of the people's liberties, gave their full backing to Fox in his attempt to re-assert the Divine Right of Hereditary Royalty; while the Tories, who had always sought to protect the Royal prerogative, had, over-night, be­come the champions of the duly elected representatives of the people in their established right to place a check upon the arbitrary powers of the sovereign.

On the 12th, Sheridan's venomous hatred of Pitt led him openly to threaten the Prime Minister with the possibly dire consequences to himself, should he persist in opposing the Prince's claims further. Three days later the Duke of York attempted to offset the menace by a tactful speech in the House of Lords; but the damage was done. Pitt had the sympathy of every decent man and woman in the country. Yet there could be no altering the course that events must take, and arrangements were made for the introduction of the Regency Bill early in the New Year.

On the 19th of December Roger returned to Lyrninton to spend Christmas with his mother. He got in a few days shooting and attended a number of dances at the big houses round about—Pylewell, Priest-lands and Vicars Hill—and also in the town Assembly Rooms. It was now well over two months since he had left Natalia, and already he had come to regard her as an episode of his past; so he entered on an amusing flirtation with another Christmas visitor to the district, Amanda Godfrey, the Titian-haired niece of old Sir Harry Burrard of Walhampton.

She was a lively and audacious young woman, who did not take much persuading to slip out of her uncle's house after everyone else was in bed, to keep assignations with her beau. On several nights they went for stolen walks together round the star-lit lakes in the grounds and through the still, frosty woods; but it was no more than a holiday romance, and by the middle of the first weekvof"January Roger was back in London.

At the opening of the first session of Parliament for 1789, the most fateful year in modern history, the Regency Bill was the one question which occupied every member's mind; so the House sat impatiently through the preliminary business, the chief item of which was the election of a new Speaker, the holder of that office having died. Pitt's cousin, the heavy-featured but incorruptible William Grenville, was elected and, on January the 6th, the acrimonious discussions on the Bill were resumed.

Pitt's proposals were, in brief, that the Prince should be empowered to exercise the royal authority, but that the guardianship of the King and the regulation of the royal household should be committed to the Queen, with a Council to assist her. Further that the Prince-Regent should have no power to assign the King's property, grant any office beyond His Majesty's pleasure, or bestow any peerage, except on the King's children after they had attained their majority.

Thus, while bowing to the inevitable, the faithful Minister sought to ensure that the poor stricken monarch should remain in the care of those who loved him, that his property should be protected against the possibility of his recovery, and that his affliction should not provide an opportunity for his unprincipled son to swamp the House of Lords with the worthless and rapacious crew that formed his following.

For days on end the Whigs screamed their rage at the prospect of so considerable a portion of the vast treasure they had hoped to loot being secured against them; but in vain. The Ministerial proposals were carried in both Houses, the Prince had no option but to consent to act as Regent on the terms submitted to him, and towards the end of January, preparations were made for the actual introduction of the Bill which would enable the Regent to replace Pitt's administration by one composed of Fox and his friends.

These were dark days for the nation but their gloom was lightened at intervals for Roger by several pleasurable episodes and minor pieces of good fortune.

On his return to London he found a notification from the Foreign Office that some packages were awaiting his collection. These turned out to have been forwarded by Hugh Elliot, and contained all the things that both Roger and Natalia had left behind when they had quitted Copenhagen. He was a little disconcerted at the sight of Natalia's furs and dresses, and he found that his money-chest was empty, but he was extremely glad to recover his own expensive ward­robe.

Then, having had no acknowledgment of an application which he had put in privately to Lord Carmarthen early in December, for the reimbursement of his expenses while abroad, he waited upon that nobleman personally. True to the policy of the British Government, which reserves all but minor rewards and honours for its paid official servants working under those who have the distribution of them, and expects its private citizens to give their services from patriotism alone, his lordship pointed out that Roger must have had a very interesting time and that, in any case, a considerable proportion of the money he had spent must have been on his own enjoyment. However, Roger succeeded in obtaining a draft on the Treasury for five hundred pounds and, although several hundreds out on the deal, considered himself lucky to have settled for that sum before the dissolution of the admin­istration jeopardised his chances of getting anything at all.

In mid-January he received a letter from Hugh Elliot, reporting that he had now succeeded in tracing Natalia. She had gone to Stock­holm and was living there again in the Russian Embassy with her father, Count Andrew Razumofsky. Having known that she dared not return to Russia, Roger was a little surprised that this solution to the problem had not occurred to him before. He was much relieved to think that she was safe and well cared for; as, although he knew perfectly well inside himself that she was much too tough to come to any serious harm, he had occasionally had fits of morbid depression in which he had imagined her in the most dire straits, or even taking her own life on account of his having deserted her. He was glad, too, to know her whereabouts as it would facilitate his proceedings against her for divorce, although these could not be instituted for some time to come.

Next, towards the end of the month, he had another letter from Georgina. It was written from the Principality of Monaco on his birth­day, the 8th, and was to wish him good luck on his coming of age. She was still enjoying the sunshine of the Mediterranean but now had a heartache to be back at her beloved Stillwaters to see its gardens blossom in the spring. Fortunately, she wrote, her father's business interests now demanded his return to England after his long absence, so they planned to get home towards the end of the first week in February.

At the prospect of seeing her again so soon Roger felt the first real thrill of pleasure that he had known for many weeks. It was not that he wanted to make love to her; it was a feeling that he could not possibly have described, but he knew that he felt more content and happy when he was with her than with any other person that he had ever known.

Lastly, on the 1st of February he was elected a member of White's. On his attaining his majority he had become eligible for membership, and Droopy Ned had put him up. As a young man of respectable, but not distinguished, parentage, he felt that it was a considerable honour to belong to the Club which was the stronghold of all the great Tory families in the land; and he derived a particular satisfaction in having, in this way, nailed his colours to the mast at the very hour when Pitt's government was about to fall, and so many friends and proteges of the Prime Minister were turning their coats in the hope of saving their places or gaining benefits from the other side.

For well over three months now he had been like a billiards ball in baulk; in the forefront of events but out of action and with his future entirely problematical. Suddenly he was brought into play again, and his affairs began to move with staggering swiftness.

CHAPTER XXII

THE FATE OF THE NATION

O N the 3rd of February, a Foreign Office messenger brought Roger two letters. Both were addressed in the writing of Hugh Elliot, and on opening the more bulky of the two he found it to be an appeal for help.

The diplomat wrote that, although he had browbeaten the Danes into withdrawing their army from Sweden in mid-November and agree­ing to prolong the armistice for six months, the Northern powers were still far from showing any inclination to accept a permanent settlement on the basis of status quo ante helium.

Gustavus, now cock-a-hoop in the belief that he had the full weight of the Triple Alliance behind him, had become overbearing towards the Danes and twice committed flagrant breaches of the armistice; so, if the status quowas to be maintained, it might next be the Danes whom Britain would be called on to protect from aggression.

They had been deprived of all the initial advantages of their surprise invasion and Gustavus was no longer naked in the wind before them. With his usual amazing energy he had set his country on its feet again, and had now considerable forces at his command. Just be­fore Christmas he had returned to his capital and performed miracles in repatriating and re-organising a large part of the army he had left in Finland. All the officers who had shown mutinous tendencies, and had not succeeded in escaping into Russia, had been seized, court-martialled and punished with the utmost savagery. New levies were being trained in every province and in the dockyards shipwrights were working night and day to get new war-keels on the stocks. By the early summer he would therefore be in a position to resume the war both in the North and in the South.

The Danes believed that the Czarina Catherine would be able to afford them little aid, owing to the terrible casualties that her armies had sustained in a series of bloody battles with the Turks. It was anti­cipated that she would be able to hold her own in Finland, but do little more.

Elliot then went on to say that he had received secret intelligence that the news of King George's madness had caused the Empress to reconsider her position. She had always loathed and feared Pitt, but now that his downfall was assured she believed that the time had come when she might detach the support of Britain from the Turks. She had, accordingly instructed her Ambassador, Count Vorontzoff, to make overtures to Charles Fox, and Fox had promised that on coming to office he would reverse Britain's foreign policy in her interests.

Should that, said Elliot, prove to be the attitude of the new Govern­ment it would be his duty to act upon such fresh instructions as he received; but he pointed out that if the burden of Catherine's war against the Turks was eased she would be able to send a strong army into Finland which might well result in the Russians and Danes achiev­ing their old ambition of dividing Sweden between them. And, how­ever provocative and unreasonable Gustavus's conduct might be at the moment, the elimination of Sweden from the European family must, in the long run, prove a major disaster; for Catherine would, in due course, turn upon and destroy the Danes. Russia would then be the mistress of the whole of Northern Europe, with her frontiers facing Scotland across the North Sea, and in a position directly to menace Britain with fleets based On the Danish and Norwegian ports.

Elliot gave it as his opinion that the only method of forestalling such a disastrous possibility was to bang the heads of the Swedes and Danes together, and dragoon them both into making a definite peace which it would be hard for either to break without contumely. But this must be done promptly, before the position worsened, and, for the purpose he needed more urgently than ever a British fleet which both the Swedes and the Danes would fear might be used against either of them should they prove recalcitrant in coming to terms.

In conclusion, Elliot said, he had written repeatedly to Lord Carmarthen on these matters and received no satisfaction; as it seemed that everyone at home was so occupied with the Regency question that they had no thought to spare for any other. But Roger's unusual position gave him special facilities for obtaining easy access to Mr. Pitt. Would he therefore, as a matter of the greatest urgency, do what he could to obtain the Prime Minister's consideration and appropriate action with regard to these momentous questions which were still threatening the balance of power in Northern Europe?

Having digested the contents of this long despatch, Roger opened the second letter. Its envelope proved to be only a cover for another and, on seeing the spidery writing on the inner one, his heart missed a beat. It was addressed to him care of the British Minister in Copen­hagen in the hand of Natalia Andreovna.

With his mouth dry and his palms suddenly moist he read what she had to say:

His first letter had been a great shock to her, as she could not understand why he had not entrusted her with the secret that he was an Englishman when they had become so devoted to one another on first arriving in St. Petersburg; but she had freely forgiven the deceit and waited patiently in Copenhagen for his return. Then, after a far longer absence than he had led her to expect, had come his second letter, saying that he must go to England without her. Gothenborg being no great distance from Copenhagen there seemed no reason why he should not have crossed to the latter place, in order to pick her up and carry her to England with him. As he had not done so, she had formed the conclusion that it was his definite intention to abandon her, but that he had lacked the courage to say so outright.

On this, rather than face the humiliation of disclosing her sad state to the Countess Reventlow, she had decided to leave Copenhagen in secret and rejoin her father in Stockholm. She had been very miserable there, as apart from her grief at Roger's treatment of her, she was unable to avail herself of the distractions afforded by re-entering Swedish society. In spite of the fact that she was now English by marriage, the Swedes regarded her as an enemy and refused to receive her among them. Her situation had greatly worsened in the New Year as King Gustavus had, at last, succeeded in expelling her father from Sweden. She was allowed to remain there in strict retirement but only, as she understood it, because the King had learned that she was married to Roger, and had some special reason for not wishing to act dis­courteously towards him.

She pointed out that it was, in any case, impossible for her to return to Russia, and, having stressed her loneliness, she vowed that neither time nor separation had affected the love she felt for her dear husband. On re-reading his letters, as she had done many times, she felt that she had acted precipitately in coming to the conclusion that he intended to abandon her for good; and she now begged his pardon for having left Copenhagen without his permission. If he would forgive her she would joyfully return to her duty and live with him in England or any other country to which his affairs might take him. She was now certain that with him alone could she find lasting happiness; so would he, therefore, bearing in mind the deceit he had practised upon her, overlook her temporary lapse of faith in him, and either come to Stockholm to fetch her, or send her instructions as to the swiftest method of joining him in England.

When he had read the letter Roger felt as though he had been struck by a thunderbolt. For over two months he had believed that Natalia Andreovna had gone out of his life for good, but here she was back again, and now the onus was on him; for he must definitely decide whether to accept or reject her.

Technically he had not deserted her. By leaving her, but writing to say that he did so only on account of urgent business, and would rejoin her as soon as possible, he had followed a course in which any court of law would uphold a husband as fully justified. She, on the other hand, had deliberately deserted him, and, if he chose to take divorce proceed­ings, he had little doubt that he could be rid of her for good. But, seeing the way he had brought her out of Russia and the miserable state of exile to which she was now reduced, could he possibly square it with his conscience to do so?

As Droopy Ned had left London that morning to spend a long week-end in the country, Roger had no-one with whom he could talk over his frightful problem in the hope of clarifying his own mind; so he decided to shelve the matter for the moment and respond to Hugh Elliot's urgent appeal by trying to obtain an interview with Mr. Pitt.

In this, at least, he was lucky. On arriving at No. 10 he met the Prime Minister on his own front doorstep, just about to enter the house. Pitt answered his salutation, gave him a sharp glance and remarked. "What ails you. Mr. Brook? You look as though you had just seen a ghost."

"I'd not be far off the mark if I said I had, sir," Roger replied with a worried grin. Then, his quick mind seizing on a way in which he might turn the allusion to his advantage, he added, "The devil of it is that this ghost follows me about."

"Have you come to me to lay it, then?" Pitt smiled.

"I have, sir; if you can give me ten minutes of your time?"

"Next month I'll give you ten days if you wish; but come upstairs and, if you'll be brief, I'll hear what you have to say."

Up in his room Pitt poured two glasses of port, handed one to Roger, and said, "You really look as though you needed this. Drink it down; then tell me what it is that troubles you?"

" 'Tis true, that I have just sustained something of a shock," Roger admitted. "But the ghost that haunts me, sir, is the state of things I left in Sweden."

"Oh that!" the Prime Minister exclaimed a little irritably; but Roger produced Hugh Elliot's letter and hurried on.

"I pray you read this, sir. I ask it on the count that however deplor­able the state of our internal affairs at the moment we still cannot afford to ignore events that are taking place overseas, or we'll have cause to rue it."

Pitt shrugged, read the letter through, refolded it and handed it back. "I have already told you," he said firmly, "that in this matter I can do nothing."

"But you can,sir," Roger protested. "You are still the principal executive of the Crown, and there is nought to prevent you ordering a fleet to sea."

"I could, but I have no mind to commit my successor in office to a policy on which he has not been consulted and of which he would almost certainly disapprove."

Roger stared at the thin, tired face of the harassed statesman; then he suddenly burst out. "How can you put such scruples before the interests of the country? Do you but act now, while you still have the chance, you may yet preserve the independence of two Kingdoms. But if you do not, Catherine of Russia will sweep the board. You know as well as I, sir, that once you are gone that traitor Fox will sell us out to her."

"Charles Fox is no traitor," Pitt replied sharply. " 'Tis merely that his views as to the country's best interests differ from my own. I sent you to Russia to ascertain if a rapprochement with the Empress was possible. Her personal dislike of me may have been the stumbling block. If Fox can secure a permanent alliance with her he will, in that, have served his country better than myself."

"What! By gaining her fickle friendship at the price of the partition­ing of Sweden, and later allowing her to gobble up Denmark? Nay, I'll not believe it!"

After pouring himself another glass of port, Pitt sipped it moodily, and said, "Such fears are based only on the beliefs of men like Elliot and Harris. My Lord Carmarthen thinks quite differently, and events may prove him right. In any case, as things are, it would be morally indefensible for me to commit Britain to a war."

"You do not have to do so," Roger cried, on a sudden inspiration. "Britain is at peace with both Sweden and Denmark. Why should you not despatch a squadron on a courtesy-visit to the capitals of both countries?"

Pitt gave him a sharp glance. " 'Tis unusual without an invitation, yet it might be done. But no! I dare not trust that hot-head Elliot."

"Had Mr. Elliot's head been colder Sweden might by this time have been divided between the Russians and the Danes," Roger retorted. "But if you fear that he may act rashly you could give instructions to the Admiral commanding the squadron that he is not to fire a shot without first receiving orders from home."

"Then 'twould be but a cardboard armada, and useless in a crisis."

"Nay, sir! The very fact of its appearance in the Baltic should be enough. Unless Britain takes some step Prussia will believe herself deserted, and refrain from pursuing the policy that was decided on last autumn. But if we show the flag, she will continue to play her part; and you may be sure that the Prussian General will have no orders that his artillery is not to use its cannon."

"Mr. Brook, Mr. Brook!" The Prime Minister shook his head in mock disapproval. "From whom did you learn to cultivate such ideas? Was it from our mutual friend the Abbé de Talleyrand-Perigord, or during your conversations with the Czarina Catherine; for they are positively Machiavellian."

Roger grinned at him. "What matter, sir, if by their acceptance the status quoin the North may be preserved and the Empress's nefarious schemes brought to naught."

"So be it, then. I confess that you have won me over to your project by providing a safeguard against our irrevocable commitment. I will see the First Lord and arrange with him the dispatch of a squadron. Do you wish to sail with it in order to witness the outcome of the matter?"

"May, I—er, leave that open," Roger hesitated a second. "My private affairs are in something of a tangle; but I should know how I am placed in a day or two."

"Just as you wish. 'Tis unlikely that a squadron could be got ready to proceed to sea until Monday, at the earliest. I trust that by then you will have laid the other ghost that worries you."

Roger thanked him, made his bow, and hurried downstairs. During the last few minutes, almost subconsciously, he had formed the resolution of going to Lymington to see his mother. It was just after mid-day, and, if he set out at once, he thought that he would be able to get there in time for a late supper.

At Amesbury House he borrowed Droopy's Ned curricle as the fastest vehicle available. By one o'clock he was being driven out of London, and soon after nine the last change of horses brought him to his home.

Lady Marie Brook accepted his unannounced arrival with her usual placidity, but one look at her boy's face was enough to tell her that he was in grave trouble of some kind. She made no comment while he ate a meal, then, when he had done, she said quietly: "Now come into the drawing-room and tell me all about it."

He smiled, kissed her, and followed her into the familiar green and white room, that always smelt so pleasantly of lavender and pot-pourri. After raking the log-fire into a blaze he settled himself opposite her and, with a few unimportant omissions to spare her sensibilities, told her the truth about his meeting and marrying Natalia Andreovna.

When he had done she sat silent for a moment, then she said: "And you have come to tell me that you are going back to Sweden to fetch her."

He nodded. "There seems naught else for it."

"Of course there is not, dear boy." She came over and kissed him. " 'Twould be idle to pretend that this is the sort of marriage that your father and I would have wished for you. But you are vowed to her, and your first decision to abide by your vows was clearly a proper one. From all you say it seems she had fair cause to believe you had abanddoned her, so 'twas but natural that she should seek an asylum with her father. Now that she has explained her disappearance and appealed for your forgiveness, I think you in honour bound to rescue her from her present unhappy situation. Bring her to me as soon as you get back to England, and you may be sure that I will afford her a mother's welcome."

In his heart of hearts Roger had known from the moment he had read Natalia Andreovna's letter that he would have to go to her, and what his mother's reaction would be; but he was, nevertheless, greatly relieved now that the decision was definitely taken.

Saturday he spent with his mother, and to reassure him further she set cheerfully about re-arranging the furniture in some of the rooms in preparation for Natalia's reception. Early on Sunday he set out for London and, on his arrival, drove straight to the Admiralty. The duty-captain informed him that the squadron would be sailing from Chatham, probably on Tuesday morning, and added, to Roger's surprise and delight, that his father had been appointed to command it.

Roger spent the night at Amesbury House, packed the things he intended to take with him, and, in the morning, took the coach to Chatham. His father had, he found, been notified that he might be sailing as a passenger, and the ruddy-faced Admiral welcomed him joyfully. They dined together in the flagship and once more Roger gave particulars of the events which had preceded and followed his marriage.

The Admiral asked if Roger had yet told his mother and, on learning Lady Marie's attitude, he nodded. "She's right, of course. She always is. Well; she and I married because neither Jacobite prejudice on her side nor lack of fortune on mine—nor the swords of her brothers for that matter—were enough to keep us apart. But 'tis, not every crazy, run-away match that turns out so well as did ours. Against that I've known couples who were pushed into marriage for family reasons come to dote on one another. 'Tis a pity she is six years older than yourself, but your travels have made you much older than most youngsters of your age; so if you start the right way you should be able to keep the breeches on your own bottom. Let's crack another bottle to your making a good Englishwoman of her."

The squadron was to consist of three line-of-battle ships, four frigates and two sloops. In the evening Admiral Brook assembled his captains and gave them their instructions. With the turning of the tide, in the early hours of the morning, the squadron weighed anchor. Off Sheerness a trader, just arriving from Gibraltar, met and passed them. Unknown to either, Roger and Georgina were for a few minutes witliin a quarter of a mile of one another; he outward bound she very nearly home.

On February nth the squadron arrived off Copenhagen. For the last lap of the voyage a sloop had been sent on ahead with letters from the Foreign Secretary to Mr. Elliot and from Mr. Pitt to Count Bernstorff, the Danish Prime Minister; the latter asking permission for the British squadron to pay a goodwill visit to the Danish fleet. The permission was readily accorded, Hugh Elliot came abroad the flagship and silently wrung Roger's hand until it hurt; then they accompanied Admiral Brook ashore in his barge for the official reception by representatives of the Danish Court and Admiralty. There was a great banging of guns and unfurling of flags and, that night, a hand­some banquet at which a number of British and Danish naval officers cemented their friendship by getting very drunk.

Next day Roger paid his respects to the Reventlows and thanked them for their kindness to Natalia; then, that evening, he transferred his baggage to one of his father's sloops, which was to take him on to Stockholm. She reached the Swedish capital late on the evening of the 16th. Although it was already dark, Roger decided to go ashore, but the formalities took much longer than he expected, and it was getting on for midnight before he found a night-hawk coachman who agreed to drive him out to the Russian Embassy.

On alighting, a sudden impulse came to him; instead of going to the front-door he walked round the side of the house to the postern-gate overlooked by Natalia's bedroom window. It seemed a long time since those summer-nights when, full of romantic ardour, he had slipped in through the door and climbed up to her balcony. Yagerhorn, who had waylaid him the last time he had stepped out into that lane, was now dead, and the clever, green-eyed Russian widow was now his wife. A light snowed dimly behind Natalia's curtains. He caught himself wondering if she had been faithful to him during their five months separation, or if, since her return to Stockholm, other gallants had paid her midnight visits by way of the postern-door.

It suddenly occurred to him that she might have a lover with her now, or be expecting one. If so, and he caught her out, he would have an eleventh-hour chance to repudiate her and return to England a free man. For the best part of a fortnight he had again become reconciled to their marriage, and had, in some ways, been looking forward to rejoining her; so he was by no means certain that he really wanted to be free of her now. He felt too, that he was probably doing her an injustice in thinking that she might have someone with her, up there in her room. All the same, he pushed the postern-door gently; and it opened.

Loosening his sword in its scabbard, he stepped inside. Treading very softly he stole over to the verandah, gripped the well-remembered s holds in the iron trellis-work, and hoisted himself up on to the balcony. For a moment he paused there, listening intently; then, hating himself

for playing the part of a spy in this private capacity, he pulled open the French window.

A startled exclamation came from beyond the curtains. Wrenching them back he stepped into the room. Natalia Andreovna was there sitting up in bed, but alone, reading a book.

"Rojé Christorovitchl" she cried, as the light fell on his face. "What a fright you gave me! But oh, how pleased I am to see you!"

He laughed; half from relief, half to cover his guilty confusion; then ran across the room and took her in his arms.

Their reunion, occurring in such a fashion, could hardly have been of a greater warmth; as it aroused in both potent memories of their first stolen meetings, and their passion seemed to render redundant all further explanations of their past doubts of one another.

In the morning Roger told her that he had been able to come on from Copenhagen in a British sloop-of-war only because he was charged with a letter for King Gustavus, and it was agreed that she should set about her packing while he delivered it. Natalia ordered her surprised maid to bring breakfast for herself and her husband, and when he had dressed he left by the front-door of the almost deserted Embassy.

A waterman took him across the sound to the palace of Drottingsholm, and in less than half an hour he was granted an audience by Gustavus, who received him with the greatest affability. The letter that Roger bore was from Mr. Pitt, and in similar terms to that addressed to Count Bernstorff, asking if the King was agreeable to a British squadron paying a goodwill-visit to the Swedish fleet. After reading it, Gustavus, who saw perfectly well what lay behind this excuse, expressed his delight at its contents.

They talked for a while of the vast improvements in the King's affairs since Roger had left Sweden, then of the situation in England. It transpired that Gustavus had received intelligence the night before by a fast courier from Berlin; so he was more up to date than Roger with events in London. The House of Commons had passed the final draft of the Regency Bill, so it only remained for the Lords to do so and, on that, the Prince of Wales, Fox, Sheridan and the rest, would become the masters of Britain's destinies.

Gustavus was as much perturbed as Roger by the change in the British Government, which, to the best of his belief, had by now taken place; but the optimistic and imaginative monarch was of the opinion that, nine-tenths of the country being behind Mr. Pitt, before many months had passed some form of revolution would take place.

Roger replied that he thought a revolution possible in a few years time, as a result of the change-over from the rule of a God-fearing King with the most simple tastes to that of a dissolute Regent, who, with his unprincipled friends, would play ducks and drakes with tho nation's resources. But that if it came it would be similar in character to that which now seemed inevitable in France, and launched to bring about the downfall of the monarchy; so Mr. Pitt would certainly not be the man to lead it.

"I agree that a popular uprising against privilege, coupled with folly and extravagance, is very likely to prove the final result of the Regency," said Gustavus. "But such movements take time to ferment; and 'tis at least a possibility that the political wheel may bring Mr. Pitt to power again before then. Therefore I have it in mind to write a private letter to him, informing him of my plans for the coming summer to put a further check upon the Czarina Catherine's ambitions. It will take a few days of careful thought to prepare, but I should be obliged if you would remain in Stockholm until it is ready, and carry it back with you."

It was impossible to refuse the request, so Roger bowed his acceptance of the mission. Then he thanked the King for having allowed Natalia Andreovna to stay on in the Russian Embassy, after his expulsion of her father.

Gustavus gave him an amused look. " 'Twas a small matter and a pleasure to oblige so good a friend as yourself, Mr. Brook; but I am still of the opinion that one can derive more contentment from a pipe than from a woman; particularly when one is married to her and her bedroom is adjacent to a postern-door. However, that is your affair."

A trifle uneasily Roger recalled that he had never ascertained why that postern-door had been left open the night before; and he wondered now if, had he not put the candles out soon after his arrival in Natalia's room, on the stroke of midnight another gallant might not have shinned up the iron trellis-work to join her. But, recalling also his own amorous dalliance with Aman'da Godfrey over Christmas, he felt that the right course was to banish all such speculations from his mind, and regard the interim in his marriage, between his leaving Natalia in Copenhagen and rejoining her in Stockholm, as though it had never occurred.

On Monday the 20th Roger received the despatch for Mr. Pitt from King Gustavus and took his final leave. Natalia, with a mountain of baggage that she had collected from the Russian Embassy, was already safely aboard the sloop, and that afternoon they set sail for Copenhagen, arriving at the Danish capital on the evening of the 23rd.

That night Roger presented his wife to his father, and the three of them supped together in the flagship. Natalia was on her best behaviour and the Admiral swiftly won her favour by the gallantry with which he treated her; so the meeting passed off very pleasantly. It was agreed that as Roger was the bearer of a Royal despatch he should take the sloop straight on to London; then, before they parted, the Admiral took him aside to tell him that he could well afford to increase his ^allowance to six hundred a year, and would be very happy to do so.

Natalia's father had given her five thousand roubles before leaving Stockholm, as well as. turning over to her all the plate, china and linen that he had there, and Roger still had intact the five hundred pounds that he had recovered from Lord Carmarthen, so they now had ample resources to set up a home in reasonable comfort. Roger's earlier fears on that score being happily dissipated, they were able to spend many intriguing hours on the voyage home discussing their future plans; for, on leaving Copenhagen, the sloop was beset with contrary winds which, while of no great violence, considerably delayed her passage, and she did not arrive in the Thames until the morning of March the 1st.

By two o'clock, having left their baggage to follow them, Roger and Natalia reached Amesbury House. Droopy Ned was not at home, but his portly father, the Marquess, assured Roger that he was delighted to be the first person to welcome Natalia to London, and pressed them to stay at Arlington Street until they had made all arrangements for a home of their own.

When they had partaken of sherry and biscuits, Lord Amesbury said that perhaps they would like to go upstairs and rest for a while before joining the family for dinner, to which Roger replied:

"I was just about to ask if I might leave my wife in your Lordship's care until this evening; as I have a letter for Mr. Pitt and must ride down with it to Holwood."

"And why, pray, should you take it there?" the Marquess asked, with a lift of his bushy grey eyebrows.

" 'Tis' from King Gustavus, my lord; so cannot be forwarded by the post, and brooks no delay."

"But, since 'tis the middle of the week, I should be mighty surprised if you find Mr. Pitt at his Kentish home."

Roger bowed. "Perhaps then, your lordship can inform me where I am more likely to come upon him; for I had imagined that he would retire there on vacating Downing Street."

"What say you?" exclaimed the burly old nobleman; then he suddenly burst out laughing and began to slap his thigh. "Egad! But this is rich! How it will make 'em laugh at White's. 'Tis clear that the news had not reached Copenhagen before you sailed from thence, and that you still know nothing of it."

"I've heard naught out of London since seeing King Gustavus on the 17th of February." Roger smiled. "But I pray you enlighten me, for it sounds as if the news were good."

"Aye, 'tis the best, lad! The best that England ever had! 'Twas on that very day that the leeches declared our good King sane again, and unlikely to suffer a relapse. Half those scallywags at Brook's are being dunned by the bailiffs, for the money they borrowed in anticipation of the loot that they'll now never get; while young Billy Pitt, from his championing the rights of the helpless King, is become the idol of the nation, and more firmly seated in the saddle than was even his great father after all his victories."

Roger jumped to his feet, his eyes shining. "Then the Regency Bill never went through—never became law?"

"Nay. Had it done so, and the Prince once assumed power, it might have proved plaguey difficult to wrest it from him again. But the country was saved from its impending fate by a matter of hours. The Bill passed the Commons, and was actually before the Lords; but by­ mid-February it was known that His Majesty had not suffered an attack for some time. On the 17th even the Whig doctors could no longer maintain their refusal to add their signatures to a bulletin declaring him convalescent; and on the 19th the Lord Chancellor adjourned the debate as no longer in the national interest."

Lord Amesbury stood up, clapped Roger heartily upon the shoulder, and added: "Now, lad! Get you along to Downing Street with that letter; and give my respects to the greatest Englishman of us all."

An hour later Roger was with the Prime Minister, who accepted his joyful congratulations in the placid manner that rarely left him. With his quiet smile, he said:

" 'Twas a devilish near thing, and a nerve-racking time for us all; but from Dr. Willis's being called into consultation I was always hopeful of His Majesty's eventual recovery. That it should have come about so quickly, is one of those things which gives us good cause to believe that God ever extends a protecting hand over Britain in her direst extremities. For myself, I now know more clearly than I did who are my true friends; for many that I thought so went over to the enemy. But I have been greatly touched by the support and loyalty of others; and I set a very high value, Mr. Brook, upon the attachment that you showed me."

Roger reddened with pleasure, and, producing King Gustavus's despatch, handed it over.

As he took it, and slit the top of the envelope with a paper knife, Pitt remarked: "Have you opened this? The seal appears to be damaged."

"Indeed no, Sir," Roger exclaimed, and looking over he saw that the big red seal bearing the Royal arms of Sweden was cracked across its lower segment.

"I trust no one else could have done so," the Prime Minister said after he had scanned the first page of the letter. "For this impetuous, intriguing King writes fiery stuff, and 'twould be highly embarrassing both for him and us had any unauthorised person seen it."

"It never left my person, Sir. I'll swear to that."

Pitt shrugged. "In that case think no more of it. The seal must have become cracked through some pressure that it met with through being carried in your pocket."

After a moment he laid the letter down, and went on. "For the time being we have done all that we can do in the North; and, in my opinion, for some months to come we shall have no further worries from that quarter. As I told you early in February, France has again become the centre of European interest. The people are becoming ever more insistent that a States-general should be summoned for the ventilation of well-founded grievances. King Louis's advisers are strongly opposed to surrendering to the public clamour; so if he is forced to give way it may mean the beginning of the end of the monarchy. Are you willing to return to France and ascertain for me what is likely to be the outcome

of these bitter antagonisms, which now threaten to provoke a bloody revolution there?"

. Roger hesitated only a second. "I would like to do so, Sir. But I am now married. Would there be any objection to me taking my wife with me?"

"None, as far as I am concerned. I trust you will be very happy. How much you decide to tell Mrs. Brook of your real business I must leave to you. But if she is a lady of your integrity and wit, she may prove of considerable assistance to you in your mission."

"I thank you, Sir." Roger bowed. "Naturally I shall be discreet on special matters, and with regard to those for whom I am acting. At your convenience I will wait upon you for further instructions."

Standing up he took his leave, very well pleased with himself. The past few months had brought him much closer to his kind but un-effusive master. He had done good work and gained much valuable experience in his northern travels. He had ample funds to go on with, and his future in this fascinating game of ferreting out the secrets that moved nations to war or peace was now assured. Moreover, he had permission to tell Natalia Andreovna enough about his work to prevent her becoming unhappy and suspicious on account of it; and he felt that the sharing of this new interest would create a strong bond between them.

He had just reached the door when the Prime Minister called him back with the remark: "By the by! Did you not tell me, Mr. Brook, just before I sent you to Russia, that you had been a member of the house-party at Stillwaters, during the week-end that Sir Humphrey, Etheredge met his death?"

"Why, yes, Sir!" Roger replied in surprise.

Pitt nodded. "I thought as much. Since you have only just returned from abroad, it may be news to you that Lady Etheredge is now on trial for her husband's murder."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SHADOW OF TYBURN TREE

I T was just four o'clock when Roger walked dazedly out of the door of No. 10. The Prime Minister had been most distressed on seeing the shock that his announcement had caused, but he could give Roger no detailed information. He explained that his mind was always so occupied with Parliamentary business that he had not the leisure to follow proceedings in the criminal courts; and would hot even have heard of the matter, had not the fact that a celebrated beauty stood accused of murdering her husband caused an unusual stir in the fashionable world.

Pitt's brain, so agile in debate and so brilliant when required to provide a cold, logical analysis, seemed suddenly to become benumbed when called on to offer sympathy to a friend stricken by a personal tragedy. Awkwardly, he had protested that he would never have broken the news so abruptly had he known that Roger and Georgina were such close friends, then patted Roger's shoulder and offered him a glass of port. Roger had declined and hurried away, now seized with a terrible urge to know the worst.

On the corner of the street a row of sedan-chairs was plying for hire. It struck him that, if the chairmen could be induced to keep at a trot, this offered a swifter means of getting through the narrow, congested streets than taking a coach; so, picking the two most stal­wart-looking bearers, he promised them half-a-guinea if they could get him to Colonel Thursby's house in Bedford Square in a quarter of an hour.

Inspired by the high reward, they set off at a run, and as Roger was jogged along he endeavoured to fight down his terrible appre­hensions. If Georgina. had been accused and brought to trial that could only be Sir Isaiah Etheredge's doing. Evidently, as Colonel Thursby had feared, the new Baronet bitterly resented being deprived of the bulk of his inheritance through Georgina's marriage-settlement, and was endeavouring to recover it by getting her out of the way. But what evidence could he possibly have?

Georgina and Roger himself were the only people who knew the real truth as to how Humphrey Etheredge had died. Colonel Thursby suspected it and so did Count Vorontzoff. It was certain that the former would never even have hinted at anything which might have brought his beloved daughter into such a ghastly situation; but the Russian Ambassador might have done so. Yet even he could provide no proof. He might have recanted his statement that the midnight message which had brought Sir Humphrey to Stillwaters in the dawn had been inspired by Georgina as an April Fool's Day joke, and thus thrown dis­credit on the rest of her story; but, apart from that, anything he might say could be based only on surmise.

As the sedan was carried across Oxford Street by the perspiring chairmen, Roger came to the conclusion that this terrible thing could have come about only through Sir Isaiah and Count Vorontzoff having plotted together to destroy Georgina. The vindictive Russian must have allowed his rancour at Georgina's treatment of him to overcome his apprehensions of Roger's threat to kill him if he talked. Roger bared his teeth in a mirthless grin, at the thought that Vorontzoff had made a mistake that was going to cost him his life. That would be no consolation if Georgina lost hers; and Roger knew that he, too, might now soon end his days swinging from a rope on Tyburn Tree; but he was determined that, before he did so, he would send the Russian on into the valley of the shadows ahead of him.

At Colonel Thursby's house the chair pulled up with a jerk. Roger jumped out, paid the men their money, and hammered on the front door. The footman who answered it told him in a subdued voice that the Colonel was not at home, as he was attending her ladyship's trial at the Old Bailey; but that the court rose at four o'clock, so he should be back quite shortly.

Roger said that he would wait, and was shown into a small sitting-room on the ground-floor. Impatient as he was for news he did not like to discuss the matter with the man; but he suddenly thought of Jenny and/having ascertained that she was in the house, asked that she should be sent to him.

Two minutes later Georgina's faithful maid appeared; her pretty face was drawn and her eyes were red from weeping. At the sight of Roger she burst into a fresh fit of weeping and buried her face in her frilled apron. Roger quickly put an arm about her shoulders and gave her a friendly squeeze, as he said:

"Come, Jenny, m'dear. I know how you feel, but crying will not help her ladyship. I have been out of England these past three weeks and knew naught of this terrible business till half-an-hour ago. Tell me, I beg, how it all came about?"

"Oh, Mr. Brook, Mr. Brook," wailed Jenny. " 'Tis right glad I'd be to see you did I dare look you in the face. But should they take my sweet mistress away in the hangman's cart, 'twill be on account of my stupidity."

"Nay, Jenny, I'll not believe that," Roger said gently. "You were ever a good, loyal girl; and I'd go bail any day that you n'er did a thing that you thought might bring harm to her ladyship."

Her head still bowed, Jenny turned a little, grasped one of his lapels and clung to him pathetically. "Oh, bless you for them words, Mr. Roger, dear. You was ever a real gentleman—even when you were a little boy and me nought but nursery-maid to Miss Georgina. I'd have bit out my tongue before I'd have said it. I swear I would; but I'd not a notion they were setting a trap for me."

"But what did you say?" Roger pressed her. "And who set a trap for you?"

" 'Twas yesterday, the second day of the trial," she whimpered. "I was taken to the law-court and put into the box. I'd fain have gone the first day, to be near her ladyship; but they wouldn't let me. There she was, bless her heart, looking a little pale but as calm as though she was in her box at the opera; and when I curtsied to her she gave me a sweet smile. The Judge was in a red robe and all the lawyer-gentlemen were wearing wigs and gowns. One of them was a big red-faced man with bushy black eyebrows. After I'd kissed the Bible he asked me a lot of questions, and very nice to me he was, at first. He said that he expected that as a good maid I took pride in keeping her ladyship's things clean and tidy; and I said of course I did. He said he had no doubt that I could remember just how many dresses her ladyship had, and what colours they were, and I told him, yes, to that too.

"Then—then he asked me to describe her bedroom at Stillwaters. At that I looked across at her ladyship and she nodded to me, so I did as I was bid. After that the gentleman asked about her ladyship's cosmetics, and what brushes and things she kept on her dressing-table. 'Twas not for me to say I thought that no business of his; and after telling him that I kept all her pots and jars in a special cabinet, I gave him the particulars he wanted. He made me repeat them, then he asked about the ornaments on the mantelpiece and the chest-of-drawers. At length he came to her bedside-table, and wanted to know what was kept on that. I told him her candle and night-light, one or two books and a big cut-glass bottle of scent."

Roger stiffened, drew in a quick breath, and said: "Yes, go on, Jenny."

She began to sob again. "He—he made me repeat that. Then— then he went back to the dressing-table and asked me if I had ever seen that particular scent-bottle on it; and—and I had to admit that I hadn't. I—I knew that I'd said something I didn't ought by then. But he'd become fierce and hor-horrible. He banged his fist on the edge of the box where I was standing and glowered at me as—as if he meant to strip my soul bare. Suddenly he—he pulled the bottle out from under his gown and thrust it within an inch of my face. He—he—he made me swear it was that bottle and no—no other; and that I'd never seen it anywhere except—except beside her ladyship's bed."

The grim significance of poor Jenny's evidence was already clear to Roger. To account for the reek of scent from Sir Humphrey's clothes and the bottle being found at the foot of the bed, Georgina had led everyone to believe that he had knocked it off the dressing-table with his whip, then fallen in the pool that the liquid had made on the floor. But the place where he had collapsed was a good twelve feet from her bedside-table; so, if it had been knocked from there he could not possibly have rolled in the spilled scent. The inference was damnably plain. She musthave thrown it at him.

*****

Roger was still endeavouring to comfort Jenny when Colonel Thursby came in. He seemed to have aged ten years since Roger had last seen him. After the briefest greeting, the housekeeper was sum­moned to take charge of Jenny, and the two men went upstairs.

"I landed from Sweden only after mid-day, Sir," Roger said, as soon as they were alone, "and learned of this ghastly business less than an hour ago. 'Tis beyond words terrible."

The Colonel slumped into a chair. "It is indeed! This is the third day of the trial. The final speeches for the prosecution and the defence were made this afternoon, and no sane man could doubt that the balance of evidence is heavily against us. To-morrow morning the judge will sum up. Somehow I must bring myself to listen to the cold logic he will employ; then await the verdict. But I already know what it will be. And there is nothing more that I can do."

On learning that the situation was now so desperate, Roger's heart was gripped by a fresh horror. But it was clear that if anything could still be done to save Georgina it lay with him to do it; for the Colonel was at the end of his tether. Going over to a side-table, he poured out a wineglass full of brandy, brought it over to the distraught father, and said:

"All is not yet lost, Sir. Thank God I got back when I did. Tomorrow morning we will ask the Court to hear fresh evidence. I will go into the box and declare that, hearing the noise of an altercation in Georgina's bedroom, I ran in, and, on seeing Sir Humphrey hit her with his whip, I struck him dead."

Colonel Thursby took a gulp of brandy, coughed, and shook his head. " 'Twould be useless, Roger. I've never doubted your willing­ness to shoulder the blame for what occurred; but to attempt to do so now would be only to sacrifice yourself without saving her."

"It has always been my belief that 'twas my blow upon his heart that killed him. I cannot stand by and let her—let her pay the awful penalty for my act."

"Nay. We must endeavour to put a check upon our natural feel­ings and, however hard, try to regard the matter dispassionately." The Colonel closed his eyes wearily, then went on after a moment: "None of us know, and no one will ever know now, what actually caused his death. It may have been your blow; it may have been the scent-bottle, that Georgina threw at him. Again, neither injury need neces­sarily have been sufficiently serious to prove fatal. It may be that ex­haustion and rage had so wrought upon his brain that before he was struck by either fist or bottle he was already beyond escaping an apoplexy."

"I know it," moaned Roger. "I know it! But the fact that either or neither of us may be guilty of his death cannot, from what you say, save one of us from being brought to book now. And, if so, I am deter­mined that it shall be myself."

"Were it possible for you to take her place I would be hard put to it to dissuade you from doing so," the Colonel sighed. "God knows, 'twould be a frightful choice of evils; only the fact that I love her better than aught else in the world would force me to countenance it. But you have yet to hear my point. No one but you, I and she are aware that you struck him, or even that you were with her when he died."

"Count Vorontzoff saw the weal that Sir Humphrey's lash left on my hand. He told Georgina so; and of his conviction that her husband died as the result of a brawl at which I was present."

"No matter. No one else appears to have noticed the mark, and it has long since disappeared. Vorontzoff has said nothing of it and there is not a shred of evidence against you. On the other hand, alas, it is now proven beyond doubt that Georgina threw the bottle. Had you afterwards run your sword through Humphrey Etheredge's body and left it there as a mark of your identity, 'twould still make no difference to the case that has been established against her. They could anywhere but beside Georgina's bed, which makes it beyond doubt that she must have thrown it."

"Could it not have been pleaded that she did so in self-defence?"

"We considered such a course," said the Colonel, "and I put a hypothetical case to Counsel, but he advised against it. Had Georgina done so in defending herself against anyone but her husband she would have been accounted justified. But this was no case of a woman defending her honour; and in English law a wife is still her husband's chattel. Whether a wife be good or bad he is within his rights to give her a beating at any time he may feel so inclined. Had Humphrey threatened to kill her, that would have been different; but there is not the faintest suggestion that, at any time, he had meditated an attempt upon her life. The legal view is that no husband would be safe were a wife permitted to retaliate for a beating by snatching up some possibly lethal weapon; and that for a wife to kill her husband so, is one of the most heinous forms of murder."

*****

For another hour they talked round and round the ghastly impasse from which it seemed there was no way to rescue the woman for whom they both felt so deeply. Then Roger said: "I see only one line as yet untried. From all you tell me no suggestion has so far been put forward that Sir Humphrey Etheredge had gone insane some time before he died. If it could be shown that Georgina believed him mad, and feared that he meant to kill her, she would have been justified in taking any steps she could to save herself."

"That means she would have to confess to having thrown the bottle and having consistently perjured herself these past three days."

"I know it. But if we succeed in making our case we can save her from the ultimate penalty. The charge would still be nothing less than manslaughter and perjury, but she would get off with trans­portation for life."

"Bless you, my boy!" the Colonel started up, clutching at this straw. "I would go with her, wherever she was sent. Anything would be better than what she faces now—anything!"

"But we need time for this," Roger hurried on. "We'll have to rake up all the excesses of Sir Humphrey's past and brief Counsel on entirely new lines. In fact, it virtually means asking for the case to be retried."

Colonel Thursby sank back with a groan. "Nay. I fear that after all 'tis useless. The judge would never grant an adjournment at this stage, unless we could produce at least some evidence in support of our new line of defence. Could we but bring a doctor into court to­morrow morning to swear that he had noticed signs of insanity in Humphrey, we should be given time to collect proof that he was really mad. But we cannot. Neither, were we granted the time, could we collect the proof. If drinking like a fish and reckless riding are to be accounted signs of lunacy, then half the squires in England would be chained to the walls of Bedlam."

"In Sir Humphrey's case 'twas not excessive drinking and hard riding alone," Roger persisted. "Towards the end his mind was definitely affected. He had a mania that Georgina was making a fool of him, and when he burst into her room he acted like a madman. I'll swear to that."

"You cannot, without- revealing your presence there."

"I'll do so then. I would venture anything on a chance that Georgina's sentence may be transportation rather than a hanging."

The Colonel wrung his hands. Oh, Roger, my boy, I know you would; and all my instincts urge me to let you make the attempt. But 'tis, now that I must strive to keep a level head for both of us. Do you not see that even if the judge granted an adjournment, at the end of it we'd still have no solid evidence that we could bring to establish Humphrey's madness. Then, when the case reopened, your part in this affair would be uncovered by the prosecution. You would find yourself in the dock beside Georgina. As two lovers accused of doing her husband to death between you, what chance would either of you stand?"

"None, I fear," agreed Roger miserably.

For a few moments they sat silent, then he burst out: "Yet, by hook or by crook, an adjournment we must get. Even in a week much could be done. We could find ways and means to throw discredit on the prosecution's witnesses. We could create a belief that Georgina went in terror of her husband, even if we have to bribe fresh witnesses of our own to say so. We could engage new Counsel to present the de­fence from a different angle. But all these things need time—time— time!"

" 'Tis the same thought that has haunted me these past three weeks," sighed the Colonel. "Yet, had I had longer, I know not what more I could have done; or even now if these measures you propose would prove effective. They sound so simple, but I fear you would find them far from easy of accomplishment."

Roger suddenly snapped his fingers. "I have it! I will go to the Prime Minister. As the King's first representative he must surely have the power to order the adjournment of a trial for a week."

Colonel Thursby did not seek to dissuade him. His own belief was, that although the Royal prerogative enabled the King to pardon a convicted person, if he wished, not even he had the right to stay the course of British justice once it was set in motion. Yet the Colonel, worn out as he was himself, could still sympathise with Roger's terrible urge to take some form of action, and thought it better that he should set out on a futile errand than remain inactive at the mercy of his heartrending thoughts.

Grabbing his hat and cloak, Roger promised that he would come back as soon as he could, and ran downstairs. As there was no hackney coach in sight, he dashed round to the mews at the back of the house, shouted for his old friend Tomkins, the Colonel's coachman, and told him to harness a pair of horses to a carriage. By half-past six he was back in Downing Street.

His luck was in to the extent that the Prime Minister had just finish­ed dinner and was about to go across to the House, so consented to give him a few minutes before leaving, but there it ended. Pitt was gentle but adamant.

He said that if Roger was dissatisfied with the course that the case had taken, that alone, as a member of the public, gave him no right whatever to intervene. If he had private knowledge of the circum­stances in which Sir Humphrey Etheredge had met his death, then it was his duty to disclose it. As far as he, the Prime Minister was con­cerned, even with the best will in the world, he could not instruct a judge to adjourn a case upon which he was already sitting. The only means by which an adjournment could be secured was by an appli­cation to submit fresh evidence before the judge ordered the jury to find a verdict.

"Fresh evidence!" "Time!" "Fresh evidence!" "Time!"were the words that hammered like the loud ticking of a clock in Roger's over­wrought brain. How, without worsening Georgina's desperate position, by making it public that she had had a lover with her in her bedroom who had helped to bring about her husband's death, could he produce the one and secure the other?

Suddenly he saw that there was only one person in the world who, if he chose, could stave off the apparent inevitability of the judge donning the black cap and pronouncing the death sentence on Georgina the foDowing morning. It was Vorontzoff. His enemy had been the first to arrive in the room and find Georgina kneeling by her dead husband's body. If he could be cajoled, bribed or bullied into retracting the evid­ence he had already given, and making a fresh statement, the situation might yet be saved.

For a further ten minutes Roger talked to Pitt, asking his advice on the legal aspects of certain courses which might be pursued. With some reluctance Pitt agreed that one of them was worth attempting; then he added:

"To approve what you have in mind is not consonant with my status as a barrister-at-law, and even less so with my functions as a Minister of the Crown. Yet, from what you tell me, I realise that you are driven to this extremity out of an attachment which combines the highest feelings of a brother, friend and lover. In such a case I cannot find it in myself to put a restraint upon you. Officially, I must know nothing of this matter, but as a friend I hope that you will succeed in your unorthodox endeavour to unveil the truth and establish Lady Etheredge's innocence."

*****

Side by side they went downstairs to their respective carriages. Britain's great Prime Minister, sitting stiff-necked and unbending, as usual, drove the short distance to the House of Commons; while Roger directed Colonel Thursby's coachman to Amesbury House.

For the past three hours he had not given a single thought to Natalia Andreovna. Now, as he walked up the steps of the mansion it struck him that on this, their first night in England, he would have once more to plead urgent business as an excuse for leaving her. But he was not called upon to do so.

On entering the drawing-room, where several members of the family and their friends staying in the house were assembled round a dish of after-dinner tea, the old Marquess told him that when they had finished dinner, as he had not returned, Natalia had expressed a wish to take a drive round Piccadilly and the Parks to see them for the first time in the evening light. She had excused herself from accepting an offer that one of them should accompany her, on the plea that Roger would be disappointed if, during her first outing in London, anyone but himself showed her the sights. So, in order to indulge this whimsy of his foreign guest, the Marquess had sent for his second coachman, who spoke a little French, and told him to take her for an hour's drive round the town.

Roger's mind was too occupied with Georgina to give the matter anything but the scantiest thought. He inquired if Droopy Ned was at home and, on learning that he had not yet come in, excused himself and hurried up to his room.

There, he collected one of his pistols, loaded it, thrust it into the inner pocket of his coat, and, running down to the courtyard, told old Tomkins to drive him to Woronzow House in St. John's Wood.

It was now close on a quarter to eight and an unusually warm even­ing for early spring, but dusk was already obscuring the vistas as he drove up the splendid new thoroughfare of Portland Place and out into the country. For the best part of a mile the way lay through farm lands, then they turned off the Hampstead Road and entered the shadows of a woodland glade.

During the drive Roger had had time to think out his plan of cam­paign. He felt certain that if he drove up to the front door of the Embassy, and sent in his name, Vorontzoff would refuse to see him alone, from fear that he meditated an assault. The proposition that he meant to put to the Ambassador was not, as he had led Pitt to suppose, that he should reveal certain facts that he had so far suppressed out of malice, but that he should go into court next morning and tell a lie to save Georgina's life.

Roger had argued to himself that Vorontzoff was as much re­sponsible for Sir Humphrey Etheredge's death as either he or Georgina, in fact, more so; for had the Russian not sent his midnight messenger to Goodwood it would never have occurred. Therefore he must be persuaded that in common decency it was for him to avert the penalty from falling on another. If entreaties, and appeals to any sense of chivalry he might have, were not enough, Roger meant to threaten him and, as he had disclosed to Pitt, in the last extremity, force him to sign a statement at the point of a pistol.

But any such conversation could not possibly be held in the presence of witnesses; and Roger did not wish his visit to the house to be known even to the Embassy servants, if it could possibly be avoided. So when the carriage drew level with the end of the Embassy garden, he told Tomkins to pull up, and wait there until his return.

Leaving the road he walked round the corner of a wall that enclosed the garden from the wood, and along it for some twenty paces until he came to a wrought-iron gate. He had thought that he would have to climb the wall, but he was saved the trouble, as the gate proved to be unlocked. Having peered through it to make certain that no one was about, he slipped inside.

*****

The house, a large, rambling, two-storied building, was about a hundred yards away, and almost concealed from where Roger stood by a belt of trees, beyond which lay an irregularly-shaped lawn with big ornamental trees growing round its edges. In the failing light the young spring green, which was just beginning to sprout from the earlier trees and bushes, was hardly apparent; but it served to thicken a little the cover afforded by the winter foliage.

Moving cautiously from tree to tree Roger made his way round the west side of the lawn towards the main block of the building. As he got nearer he could see that the ground-floor windows, three of which had lights shining from them, were raised a few feet above a low gravel terrace, on which stood two carved stone seats. The main block had two big bow-windows, each of which supported a separate balcony for the room above, and between them was a doorway with a flight of iron steps leading down to the garden.

Having reached the side of the house, which consisted of a slightly lower wing, he began to tiptoe along the terrace. Just before he came to the first of the lighted windows he crouched down, so as to bring his head below the level of the sill; then he lifted it and risked a quick peep inside. It was a dining-room, and two footmen were in there laying the table for supper. Crouching again, he tiptoed on.

Suddenly a bang and a rattle in his rear, caused him to start and quickly flatten himself against the wall; but it was only one of the foot­men in the room he had just passed, closing the windowed drawing the curtains for the night.

Creeping another few steps he arrived at the first of the big bow-windows. This too, had a light coming from it but not so brightly as from the other. Lifting his head again he peeped in through its lower left-hand corner. The room was a handsomely-furnished study and in it, with his back half-turned to Roger, a wigless man was sitting writing at a desk by the light of a solitary two-branched candelabra. It gave the only light in the room, and so accounted for its dimness, but light enough for Roger to identify the writer. That broad, muscular frame and bull-like neck could belong only to Vorontzoff.

Roger saw that of the three windows that formed the bay those at each side were both open at the top; so he had only to ease up the lower sash of the one nearest him to crawl inside. But the noise he would make in doing so was certain to attract Vorontzoff's attention; and the Russian might shout for help, or if he were armed, become master of the situation before his visitor could cover him with a pistol.

To see the Russian sitting there with his back turned, and only some panes of glass in between them, was, for Roger, tantalising in the extreme. At first sight it had seemed such a piece of good fortune that the mildness of the weather had led to several ground-floor win­dows being open; so it was doubly aggravating now to realise that he could not take advantage of that without giving his enemy the advan­tage over him.

It occurred to him that he could smash one of the window panes, thrust his pistol through it pointed at Vorontzoff's back, and threaten to shoot him if he called for help; then make him come to the window, raise its lower sash and admit his visitor himself. But there was a danger attached to such a proceeding. One of the servants might hear the smashing of the glass, and come running to see if his master had met with an accident. On consideration that seemed unlikely, so Roger decided to risk it. But, just as he was about to pull out his pistol, he saw the door of the room opening, and was forced to duck out of sight.

A moment later he stole a cautious glance. A footman stood framed in the doorway and was just ending a sentence in Russian. Vorontzoff replied abruptly in the same language, and stood up.

Roger gave them another thirty seconds, then peeped again. The footman was lighting the candles in the chandelier and Vorontzoff was on the far side of the room putting on his wig in front of a gilt-framed wall-mirror. After a slightly longer interval Roger snatched another look. Vorontzoff was just going out of the door and the footman was walking towards the window. Scared that the man would see him, Roger dropped down on his knees and crouched almost flat, to get below the angle of the man's glance if he looked out.

The shadows were thickening now and the heavy foliage of a big magnolia grandiflora, climbing up the side of the house, helped to obscure the place where Roger was kneeling. The footman shut one of the windows but ignored the other, then pulled the heavy curtains, cutting off any further chance of Roger seeing into the room.

He got to his feet and stood there listening intently for a moment. He could hear the man's footfalls as they crossed the parquet of the floor, then they faded away. Roger had no idea if Vorontzoff had come back into the room or not, but he felt that it was now or never.

Gripping the lower framework of the window which was still open at the top, he eased it up. It ran smoothly on its weights making little noise. When he had it open a couple of feet he put his hands on the sill, kicked himself off the ground and, as quietly as possible, wriggled inside. Between the window and the fall of the curtain there was a space about a foot wide, and ample in which to stand up. Getting cautiously to his feet he listened again.

For half a minute he could hear nothing but the beating of his own heart, then he caught Vorontzoff's voice, distant but clear, speaking in French.

"This way, Madame. In my room we shall be able to talk at our ease."

A woman murmured something that Roger did not catch. There came the noise of footsteps on the parquet and people settling them­selves in chairs, then Vorontzoff spoke again:

"His Excellency wrote to warn me that there was a prospect of my being able to welcome you here either this month or next. But there seemed some little doubt then whether you would be able to make the journey. I ani delighted that you managed to do so, as I feel certain that you will be of the very greatest assistance to me in London."

"I am, I believe, exceptionally well placed to be so," replied the woman, with a little laugh; and Roger stiffened where he stood, for the voice was that of Natalia Andreovna.

* * * * *

"I gather that you are married to a young man in the service of the British Foreign Office?" Vorontzoff remarked, continuing the conversation in French; and Roger blessed the custom of educated Russians of rarely using their own language, except when addressing servants.

"Yes, Monsieur," replied Natalia. " 'Tis too long a story to tell in detail now. This is my first night in London, and I succeeded in slipping away from the mansion where he lodged me only on the pretext of wishing to see the city at sunset by myself. I will give you simply the bare outline.

"I believed my husband to be a Frenchman when he married me at the order of the Empress, in Petersburg, towards the beginning of last September; but a fortnight later he left me at a moment's notice, marooned in Copenhagen, on the plea of urgent business. 'Twas on doing so that he disclosed in a letter that he was really an Englishman; and that gave me furiously to think. While we were in Stockholm, where we first met, and later in Russia, his curiosity on the subjects of Her Majesty's Court and our foreign policy had been insatiable. Naturally I wondered if he had been making use of me to gain informa­tion, so I determined to wait and find out. Then, early in October I had a letter despatched by him from Gothenborg. In it he told me that he would not be able to rejoin me for some time. To begin with I had been much attracted to him physically, but the attraction was Wearing thin, as these things do, and there was a certain softness about his nature which at times repelled me; so I decided to wait no longer, but rejoin my father."

So thatwas the truth of the matter, thought Roger grimly. Her feelings for him had been on a par with his for her, all the time. What a fool he had been to go out to Stockholm and fetch her, when by leaving her there he might have been rid of her for good.

Vorontzoff had interrupted her to say: "Pardon me, Madame, but am I not right in supposing ,that your return to your father was dictated, partly at least, by the fact that you could not go back to Russia, owing to your having incurred the Empress's displeasure?"

" 'Tis true, your Excellency," Natalia admitted, "and as I have a great love for our country I took it hard. 'Twas in the hope that I might earn reinstatement in Her Majesty's good graces, that I suggested to my father making a rapprochement with my husband for the purpose of gaining possession of his secrets."

Roger had guessed as much already from this secret visit of Natalia's to the Russian Embassy; and he smiled to himself at the thought that pure chance should disclose her intention to him before she had even had an opportunity to begin her nefarious operations. But from this comforting belief he was rudely awakened, for she went on quietly:

"I have already accomplished a coupof which I am not a little proud. Before leaving Sweden King Gustavus entrusted my husband with a letter to Mr. Pitt..."

Roger's heart missed a beat. In his mind he saw again Pitt looking at the cracked seal of the letter. If a copy of it fell into Vorontzoff's hands that would be a major calamity. If Natalia had one it was essential that he should see what happened to it, so that he could retrieve it at the earliest possible opportunity. Very gingerly he moved a few feet to the right until he was behind two of the curtains where they overlapped. Raising his hand he drew the under one gently aside until there was a chink between them through which he could see a narrow strip of the room.

Meanwhile Natalia was still speaking. "In it, the ambitious Swede gives details of the campaign he intends to wage against us this coming summer; he also makes various proposals by which the expansion of Russia might be checked. On our voyage here, one night when my husband was half-asleep, I succeeded in getting it from the pocket of his coat. I pretended a faintness from lack of air, and told him that I meant to walk for a while on deck; but I took the letter to another cabin and made a copy of it. I have it here, and to give it to your Excellency without delay was my reason for risking this visit to you so soon after my arrival. But now I must get back. I have already been away over long. To avert suspicion I had to support being driven for an hour round the parks before I dared propose to Lord Amesbury's coach­man that he should drive me out here to see my country's Embassy."

As she finished speaking Roger had just managed to part the curtains. He could not see Natalia, but he was in time to see her hand stretch out and lay the packet on Vorontzoff's desk.

"You have done well, Madame," the Ambassador purred, as he picked it up. "But tell me, this husband of yours, Mr. Brook. Is he not a tall, slim young man of handsome countenance with brown hair and very deep blue eyes?"

"Why yes!" Natalia replied. "Does your Excellency then know him?"

Roger had adjusted the crack between the curtains a fraction, so that he could now see Vorontzoff. The Ambassador had slit open the cover of the packet and taken out the sheets of paper it contained. It was clear that next moment he would begin to read them. Roger had been praying that before he did so Natalia would go, as he would then be able to hold up the Russian, get the letter from him, and after­wards proceed to the original purpose of this clandestine visit. But his hopes were clearly doomed to disappointment. At all costs Vorontzoff must be prevented from reading even a part of King Gustavus's letter and, somehow, Natalia must be got out of the house before she had a chance to give any information about its contents.

"Aye," murmured the Ambassador. " 'Tis the same man without a doubt. I won three hundred guineas from him at cards, nigh on a year ago.

"Indeed you did; and I took your Excellency for a ride in a wheelbarrow," said Roger quietly, as he stepped from behind the curtains, pistol in hand.

"Rojé Christorovitch!" exclaimed Natalia, springing to her feet. "So you—you followed me here?"

"Nay, Madame," he replied coldly. "Our meeting is entirely fortuitous, but none the less fortunate."

Although he spoke to her his eyes were on Vorontzoff. Levelling his pistol at the Ambassador's heart, he said:

"Your Excellency will oblige me by laying those sheets of paper down on this side of your desk and stepping back four paces. They are an illegal copy of a secret document addressed to the British Prime Minister. It is my duty to prevent you from reading them. If you refuse I intend to shoot you and, despite your status as Ambassador, I shall be upheld by my Government in having taken the only course possible in the circumstances. I mean what I say, and I will give you only five seconds to decide."

As Roger began to count, Vorontzoff's brown face went whitish round the mouth and eyes. He had not forgotten their old quarrel and the ruthless way in which Roger had threatened him in the ice­house. He had not the faintest idea that for the next twenty-four hours Roger actually set more value on his life and well-being than on his own; and his guilty conscience caused him to believe that the young Englishman had found out about the part he had played in giving Sir Isaiah Etheredge pointers which would assist in Georgina's con­viction, so meant to take this opportunity to kill him.

The Russian was no coward, but he thought he knew death when he saw it approaching. As Roger counted three he shrugged his broad shoulders, refolded the sheets of paper and, leaning forward, laid them down on the far side of his desk.

From that instant everything seemed to move with startling suddenness.

*****

Roger stepped forward to pick them up, but with a swish of her silken skirts, Natalia Andreovna ran in and snatched them from under his hand.

As he turned his pistol on her and demanded that she give them up, Vorontzoff grabbed a heavy paper-weight up from his desk and flung it at him;

The missile caught him on the ear, knocking him off his balance and half-stunning him for a moment. Before Vorontzoff could get round his desk to hurl himself on him, Roger had recovered sufficiently to jump back a pace and level the pistol at his head.

The Ambassador stopped dead in his tracks; but Natalia, the papers still clutched in her hand, was now running towards the door. Roger hesitated only an instant. He must catch her and get them back before she had a chance to secrete them somewhere about the house.

Thrusting Vorontzoff aside, he pelted after her, shouting: "Stop, damn you! Stop, or I'll shoot you." But she already had the door open and, ignoring his cries, dashed out into the hall.

The two footmen on duty were standing at its far end near the door of the vestibule. As she raced towards the stairs she screamed something at them in Russian. Instantly they sprang to life and ran at Roger.

Natalia was half-way up the semi-circular staircase when the three men met in a rush at the bottom. Roger had uncocked his pistol as he ran and, reversing it, now gripped it by the barrel like a club. His first blow with it caught one of the Russians on the side of the head and knocked him senseless. But the other grabbed him round the waist in a bear-like hug.

For a moment they swayed there, then Roger brought the metal-shod butt of his pistol down with all his force on the top of the man's white wig. With a groan he relaxed his hold and slid to the ground sense­less.

Natalia was now up on the landing. Turning, Roger took the stairs three at a time in pursuit of her. Suddenly he heard Vorontzoff yelling in his rear: "Halt or I'll kill you! Stay where you are or you're a dead man!"

Roger had reached the curve of the stairs and had only to glance sideways to see the Ambassador ten feet below, now armed with a brace of pistols, both of which were pointing up at him. Ignoring the threat he leapt up another three stairs. There was a loud report and he was thrown sideways by a bullet smashing into the back of his left shoulder.

Swaying violently he mounted the last six stairs, just in time to see

Natalia dive through a doorway on the opposite side of the landing. The door slammed behind her, momentarily drowning the shouts of Vorontzoff and half a dozen servants who had come running into the hall at the sound of the pistol-shot.

Dashing across the landing, Roger flung himself against the door through which Natalia had disappeared. At the impact the wound he had received gave him a frightful twinge but the door yielded slightly, so he knew that she must be holding it shut by leaning against it. Stepping back a few paces he ran at it, bringing up his right foot so that it should strike the door flat, like a battering-ram.

The door gaped open eighteen inches and, thrown off her balance, Natalia fell to the floor on its far side with a scream. Before she could get to her feet, Roger had forced his way through and grasped her by the wrist of the hand that held the papers.

Struggling up she clenched her other fist and hit him with it in the face with all her strength. The blow landed on his right eye. For a second he saw stars and whorls of red fire. As he staggered back she tore her wrist from his grip and ran across the room to the window.

With a shake of his head, Roger recovered from the blow and went after her. In the darkness he collided with the end post of a bed and half-stunned himself. The check gave Natalia time to open the window. Darting through it she ran out on to the balcony and began to shout: "Here! Here! Count Vorontzoff! I have the letter! I'll throw it to you!"

Vorontzoff was no longer in the room below, as she thought, but crossing the landing as fast as his legs would carry him, followed hot-foot by his servants. Roger sprang across to the window and out on to the balcony. At the sound of his trampling feet Natalia turned and faced him. In a last effort to prevent his snatching the letter she held it high above her head and leaned right back over the ornamental iron balcony railing.

Roger stretched out his hand to grab her, but it met empty air. To avoid his grasp she jerked violently backwards. The rusty iron railing gave way under the shock and she went hurtling head over heels down to the terrace.

For a second Roger swayed above the abyss, within an ace of pitching after her. No sooner had he regained his balance than he heard the sound of his pursuers crashing through the room behind him. Desperately he cast round for a way of escape. To his right he suddenly caught a faint glint of the first starlight on the big, shiny leaves of the magnolia tree.

To gain the few moments needed to scramble out on to it he had, somehow, to give a temporary check to the pursuit. Turning, he re-cocked his pistol and fired it blind through the open window into the darkness of the room. Then, thrusting the still-smoking weapon back into his pocket he knelt down, seized a stout branch of the magnolia and swung himself off the balcony.

The branch bent and nearly gave under his weight; but before it could snap he managed to get a hold on the thick, twisted trunk that was set firmly against the wall. Each time he had to take a part of his weight on his left shoulder it pained him so greatly that he felt as though his arm was being torn from its socket. Gritting his teeth against the pain he managed to slither down, hand over hand, to the terrace.

White-faced and trembling, he looked round for Natalia. After a second he saw her. She had fallen upon one of the stone seats and hung, face down, doubled up across its back.

Hurrying over to her, he lifted her up and supported her against the back of the seat. Every breath of wind had been driven out of her body. She could not speak but in the starlight her green eyes glared defiance and hatred at him. The copy of the letter was still clenched in her right hand. Between agonised gasps for breath she made a last feeble effort to prevent his getting it; but he tore it from her and pushed it into his pocket.

Suddenly, as he strove to keep her from slipping to the ground, she was sick and vomited all over his feet. By this time Vorontzoff and his men had come out on to the balcony, and were peering down over the broken ironwork to see what was going on in the semi-darkness below them. The Ambassador levelled his second pistol and pulled the trigger; there was a crash, a spurt of flame and the bullet whistled past Roger's head.

A moment later, above the cursing of the men up on the balcony, he caught the sound of hurried footsteps on the gravel some fifty paces to his right. He guessed at once that the shouting and the shooting had reached the ears of the outdoor servants and that they were running from the stables. In another minute his retreat would be cut off. If he was to save the letter he had not a second to lose.

As he straightened himself Natalia broke from his grasp, turned, spat in his face, and staggered away up the iron garden steps to the house. That she had survived her fall of fifteen feet on to a stone seat appeared a miracle, but as she had fallen on her stomach, it seemed that she had not sustained any permanent injury.

As she stumbled away from him, Roger swung round, jumped off the terrace and ran across the lawn. Shouts, curses and the sound of pounding feet followed him, but fear of capture lent speed to his long legs. Outpacing the stable-hands he reached the iron gate with a good lead, wrenched it open and staggered through the fringe of wood to the road. Flinging himself into the waiting carriage he shouted to Tomkins to drive like hell back to Bedford Square.

* * * * *

While the carriage bowled along Roger tried to examine his wound; but as it was at the back of his left shoulder it was almost impossible for him to do so. It was very painful and he thought that the bullet had smashed his shoulder blade. He had lost a lot of blood and felt faint and dizzy.

His physical distress was only dominated by his mental agitation. The all-important project which had inspired his clandestine visit to the Russian Embassy had, as yet, not even been broached. Natalia's unexpected appearance there had prevented him from saying a single. word to Vorontzoff about Georgina. Still worse, the ensuing fracas had now entirely shattered any prospect of a calm, straightforward conversation with the Russian, in which he might have been argued into assuming a share of the responsibility for Sir Humphrey Etheredge's death and coming to Georgina's rescue. And her only hope of escaping the rope lay in Vorontzoff being persuaded or forced into agreeing to do so before morning.

By the time the carriage had covered a mile Roger's brain had cleared a little, and he saw that the first thing he must do was to get his wound attended to; otherwise he would lose so much blood that he Would be rendered hors de combat, and incapable of making any eleventh hour effort at all on Georgina's behalf.

When, some seventeen months earlier, he had fought his duel with George Gunston in St. John's Wood, they had had their hurts attended to by a Doctor Dillon. He was an Irishman and a drunkard, but he was a clever surgeon and knew how to hold his tongue; which was im­portant in such matters, as duelling was strictly illegal. Roger remem­bered that Dillon lived in a cottage just off the Edgware Road, so he told Tomkins to drive there.

He had been in the precincts of the Russian Embassy for little more than half-an-hour, so it was still only a few minutes past nine when the carriage drew up outside Dillon's cottage. To his intense annoyance the Doctor was out, but his wife said that he was only round at the local tavern, and she would go and fetch him.

Roger made himself as comfortable as he could in the parlour and waited there with such patience as he could muster for a quarter of an hour. Then Mrs. Dillon returned to say that her husband had gone off with two friends to have a night-cap in some other haunt; but she felt sure that he would be back in an hour or so, and, in the meantime, if Roger would let her, she would dress his wound herself.

She was a hard-faced looking woman, and Roger recalled having heard it said that before her marriage she had first been a nurse, then a midwife who at times resorted to certain dubious practices; but if that was so it detracted nothing from her possible competence, so he agreed to submit himself to her ministrations.

After cutting away his coat and shirt she examined the wound by the light of a candle and said that she did not think that the bone was broken, but the ball might have lodged beneath it. Then she bathed the ugly gash, dressed it, and revived him after the ordeal by giving him a cup of hot, strong tea well laced with gin.

Roger knew that if there was a bullet in the wound he ought to have it removed as soon as possible, otherwise complications might set in; so, anxious as he was to be on his way, he must stay where he was till the Doctor returned, as Dillon was the only surgeon he knew who would undertake such a job without asking awkward questions.

It was past eleven when the Irishman came in, and when he did he was three-parts drunk, but he set to work with cheerful unconcern on Roger. The probing for the bullet was excruciatingly painful, but it proved to be there, and, after Dillon had fished it out, the cauterizing of the wound was equally agonising. For over half-an-hour Roger groaned and cursed while rivulets of sweat ran down his face, and several times he felt near to fainting. At last the gruelling business was over, his injured shoulder properly bandaged and his arm strapped firmly to his side; but, even then, the Doctor would not hear of his getting to his feet until he had had at least an hour to recover.

Having already been deprived of the opportunity of attempting anything further that evening, Roger did not feel that the loss of an extra hour round midnight would now make any material difference. While waiting for the doctor he had had ample time to review the situation, and he had come to the conclusion that it would be futile for him to try to see Vorontzoff again.

In the first place, after what had already occurred, the Ambassador would be extremely incensed against him and, in the second, he was now in no shape for further heroics. Therefore, he must get somebody else to go and talk to the Russian on the lines that he had meant to adopt himself; and the most suitable person for this delicate mission was clearly Droopy Ned.

Droopy had been at Stillwaters over the fatal weekend. He already knew most of the facts and could be told the rest, as he was entirely to be trusted. He was shrewd, diplomatic, and a person of sufficient prestige to secure an interview with Vorontzoff at any time, if he re­quested it on the plea of urgent business. The only possible alternative was Colonel Thursby, and Roger ruled him out as already so exhausted and overwrought by his daughter's impending fate, as temporarily to be lacking in the agility of mind and force of will necessary to bring Vorontzoff to heel.

Dr. Dillon insisted on seeing Roger home, so at one o'clock in the morning, they walked down the garden-path, got into the waiting carriage and told the patient Tomkins to drive to Arlington Street.

The moon was up, and five minutes later, as the carriage turned out of the Edgware Road into Oxford Street, they could see on the west side of the corner the three stout posts and their cross-beams that formed the gallows, standing out clearly against the night sky.

"Look at old Tyburn Tree," remarked the jovial Irishman. "I've seen many a good hanging yonder, and may the blessed St. Brigit preserve me to see many more."

Roger shuddered, but did not reply. Already the very sight of the gibbet had conjured up an awful vision in his mind. He could see his dear, beautiful Georgina hanging there; her head lolling limply on one shoulder, her dark curls hanging in disorder over her purple face; her flashing eyes dull and lifeless as they protruded blindly from their sockets, and her laughter-loving lips horribly swollen about a gap­ing, sagging jaw.

He knew that unless he could do something within the next few hours that nightmare vision would become an actual fact, and that, even if he gave his own life uselessly, no course must be left untried which might avert that grim reality.

At Amesbury House he shook hands with old Tomkins, asked bim to take Dr. Dillon home on his way back to Bedford Square, and gave him a handsome tip. Then, bidding good-night to the Doctor he pulled the bell beside the big carved door.

The night-footman let him in and told him that Lord Edward had come home an hour before and gone straight to bed. Roger went up to Droopy's room and found him in bed, lying on his back and snoring loudly. All attempts to rouse him failed, so, much perturbed, Roger went downstairs and sent the footman to rout out Droopy's valet.

When the valet appeared he said that his master had been much worried by the course that Lady Etheredge's trial had taken. He had been present at each session and given evidence himself on Tuesday. After the adjournment which had taken place on the previous after­noon, he had gone to Lincoln's Inn to consult the Counsel who were defending her ladyship, in the hope that a conversation with them would produce some hopeful aspect of the case. He had returned greatly depressed at half-past seven, and on learning that Roger had arrived in London, went out again to try to find him at White's Club, Colonel Thursby's, and various other places to which he might have gone. He had been back twice after that to see if Roger had come in, and on his final return at midnight, had told his man that "he meant to sleep this night if he died of it"; then he had taken a large dose of one of his Eastern drugs and allowed himself to be put to bed.

Droopy's deep concern for Georgina was, Roger realised, mainly inspired by his friend's knowledge of his own attachment to her. He had obviously felt himself to be in loco parentis,even to the point of interviewing Counsel; but, as matters stood at the moment, that made it all the more exasperating that, only an hour before, he should have thrown his hand in and sought refuge from further anxiety in impene­trable oblivion.

Too late, Roger saw that if only he had not been in such a hurry to dash off to Mr. Pitt that afternoon the Marquess would have told him about Georgina's trial and Droopy's pre-occupation with it. Then, if he had waited until Droopy had come in they could have put then-heads together, and things might have been in far better shape. As it was he could only ask the valet to come upstairs and help him to undress; then, when he had been propped up in bed, issue an imperative order that in. no circumstances was he to be called later than six o'clock.

In spite of a distinct feverishness and the gnawing pain in his left shoulder, mental exhaustion carried him off to sleep quite quickly.

Yet when Droopy's man came to rouse him he felt that barely ten minutes could have elapsed since he had closed his eyes.

On looking in the mirror he saw that he had a black eye where Natalia had struck him, and he wondered if, apart from a black, blue and aching tummy, she was by now well on the way to recovery from the effects of her nasty fall. Then his mind snapped back to Georgina, and the fact that this was the fateful day upon which it must be decided whether her generous youth and vital loveliness was to be preserved as a joy to all who knew her, or soon be transmuted into a lump of senseless, ugly clay.

* * * * *

It took three-quarters of an hour for Droopy's man to get Roger into his clothes, adjust the sling round his arm, and make him as presentable as possible. Immediately this painful process had been accomplished, they hurried downstairs. Droopy still lay like a log and, for over an hour, defied all efforts to wake him.

They shook and slapped him; put an ice-compress on his head and poured the most fiery liquor they could find down his throat. The valet tickled the soles of his master's feet and Roger stuck pins in his arms, but still he lay impervious to this violent treatment, except for an occasional jerk, or a snort through his fleshy nose.

It was not until eight o'clock, after Roger had ordered a hip-bath to be brought in and filled with cold water, and had Droopy's limp form plunged into it, that he at last showed signs of returning con­sciousness. Then it took them another quarter of an hour of slapping his face, holding smelling-salts under his nose, and pouring black coffee into him to restore him to his full senses.

He took this arbitrary treatment with perfect good temper and only protested mildly that he was well-acquainted with the properties of the drug he had taken; and, that had he been left alone, he would in any case, have woken round about eight o'clock and been at the Old Bailey soon after nine to hear the judge's summing-up.

When he was stretched comfortably on his gilt day-bed with Roger seated beside him, the valet brought them up breakfast. Only then did Roger realise that he had not eaten since breakfasting with Natalia Andreovna in the sloop that had brought them home from Stock­holm. Relays of food were sent for, Droopy cut the eggs, sausages, mushrooms and ham into mouthfuls, and between them, the now one-handed Roger spoke rapidly and forcefully of Georgina's frightful situation.

By a quarter to nine they had fully agreed on the only course of action which might still possibly save her, and leaving Droopy to com­plete his dressing as swiftly as he could, Roger hurried downstairs, got into a coach that he had already ordered, and drove to the Old Bailey.

The trial of a lady of fashion on a charge of murder had aroused great interest, so ghouls from the social world had vied with all the enthusiastic amateurs of crime in London to get places in the portion of the Court reserved for the public. As the Court was already sitting when Roger arrived he would have stood no chance at all of getting in, had it not been for his intimacy with Colonel Thursby. By bribery accompanied by alternate smiles and menaces he eventually succeeded in being conducted through the press to a seat beside the Colonel at the solicitors' table.

Georgina, dressed entirely in black and looking very pale but quite calm, and still strikingly lovely, was seated in the dock. The stir caused by Roger's entrance caused her to look round. The second her glance fell on him her eyebrows went up and her mouth opened as though she was about to emit a piercing scream. With an obvious effort she stifled it in her throat but made a swift gesture with her hands as if to say: "Go away! Please! Please! I beg you to go away from here."

He gave her a reassuring smile, sat down and looked round the Court. It was packed to capacity with row upon row of hard, avid, gloating faces. Few but those of the lawyers, the court officials and the double row of "twelve good men and true," in their jury-box, showed any trace of solemn decency.

The place had a dank, chill atmosphere, which was calculated to make a stranger to it shiver even on a summer's day. The floor was dirty and there was a subtly unpleasant smell which conjured up the thoughts of gaol-fever. Roger did not wonder that the judge held in his hand a paper-frilled posy of sweet-smelling flowers, and that learned Counsel occasionally sniffed at oranges stuffed with cloves.

The judge, an elderly, red-faced man, was addressing the jury almost tonelessly; yet, obviously, he felt that this was no clear-cut case of crude murder arising out of a proven hate or desire for gain, since he was taking great pains to present an unbiased analysis of the evidence that had been given by both sides.

Roger soon realised that had he not had such difficulty in getting into the Court he would have been in time to hear the opening of the day's proceedings, as it was apparent that the judge had only just started his summing-up. What length of time could be hoped for before he completed it, was the question which now agitated Roger's mind.

His final plan before going to sleep had been that Droopy should set off for the Russian Embassy soon after seven, so that he would have a full hour in which to argue with Vorontzoff and, if he was successful, be able to bring the Ambassador to the Old Bailey by the time the Court opened at nine. But Droopy's addiction to strange drugs had ruined all hope of that.

Now, even in his racing curricle, he could not have got out to Woronzow House before nine; he might be kept waiting anything up to a quarter of an hour before Vorontzoff was ready to see him, and it was hardly likely that it would take less than half an hour to induce the

Russian entirely to reverse his attitude towards Georgina; then they had to get from St. John's Wood to the Old Bailey, so, at the very best, it could not be hoped that they would appear there before ten.

If the judge was still summing up all would be well. Georgina's Counsel would be able to request permission to submit new evidence; but if the jury had been sent to consider their verdict the judge might rule that, since Vorontzoff had already given his evidence and the de­fence had had ample time to recall him if they wished, the minds of the jury must not now be influenced further in either direction.

What was to happen then? Or if Vorontzoff proved adamant and Droopy arrived alone to say that he had failed to secure the Russian's co-operation?

From time to time Georgina turned to look at Roger. Each time their glances met her black eyes said: "What stroke of ill-fortune has enabled you to appear here at this last moment? I beg you to remain silent! Say nothing! Say nothing!"

And Roger's solitary blue one, for the other was now almost closed in a great purple bruise, replied: "Courage, Georgina, courage! All is not yet lost. But if we have to swing, we'll swing together!"

Ten o'clock came and the judge was still talking. Roger had his watch out lying in front of him on the table. Every other moment he glanced at it and the long hand seemed to leap from minute to-minute; five past, ten past, a quarter past, twenty past, twenty-five past. Still the judge was speaking, yet still the faces that Roger was so desperately anxious to see failed to appear among the crowd that packed the doorway.

At half-past Colonel Thursby leaned over and whispered in Roger's ear: "I think he is near through; and I doubt if our agony will be greatly prolonged by the jury."

Roger knew that he referred to the general tendency that the sum­ming-up had taken. The judge had been scrupulously fair, but the dominant motif of his instruction to the jury was that—if they reached the conclusion that the cut-glass scent-bottle could have struck Sir Humphrey Etheredge upon the head only through the agency of the prisoner's hand, and that she had thrown it at him with deliberate intent to cause him an injury, then her act had resulted in wilful murder, and they would have no alternative but to return a verdict of "Guilty."

In his hour-and-a-half's review of the evidence those questions had been answered beyond further dispute, so it now seemed certain that the jury would be absent only for a few minutes before returning such a verdict. That was the thought in the Colonel's mind, and Roger would have given a very great deal to be able to give him some comfort, by telling him that he had dispatched Droopy Ned on an attempt to induce Vorontzoff to appear in court and make a fresh statement. But he dared not raise the distraught father's hopes, because he was far from certain that Droopy would succeed in his mission; as, however justifiable in this particular case, it would prove no easy matter to persuade the Russian to come into court and bear false witness. All Roger could do was to write a note and pass it across to Georgina's leading counsel.

At twenty-five to eleven the judge concluded his address, and he was just about to instruct the jury to retire to consider their verdict when Georgina's counsel rose with the note in his hand, and said:

"My lord. I crave your indulgence to produce a new witness. My excuse for not putting him in the box at an earlier stage of the trial is that he returned from abroad only yesterday. But he is a Mr. Roger Brook, whom your lordship will recall as having already been named in this case among the members of the house-party that has been the subject of this inquiry. I therefore submit that his testimony may prove highly relevant, and pray that your lordship will be pleased to hear him."

Georgina had come to her feet with a half-strangled cry. Leaning out of the dock she wrung her hands towards the judge and gasped imploringly: "I beg you, Sir, not to hear this gentleman! He can know nothing of the matter! Nothing!"

There was an excited rustle among the crowd, then the judge waved her sternly back to her seat and said quietly to counsel: "You may swear your witness."

* * * * *

As Georgina sank back on to her chair and burst into a flood of tears, Roger stepped up into the witness-box and was duly sworn. Then counsel for the defence asked him to tell the court anything that he could relating to Sir Humphrey Etheredge's death.

It was now a quarter to eleven. Roger's hopes that Droopy would arrive with Vorontzoff were fast dinunishing. But as long as Droopy did not appear alone, to announce failure, there was still a chance that the two of them might make a belated appearance. So Roger meant to gain a little more time by giving irrelevant evidence to start with.

He thought that he might be able to keep it up for about a quarter of an hour, but by eleven o'clock Droopy would have had nearly an hour and a half in which to plead with and threaten the Russian, and if by eleven they were not in court, it could only be because Vorontzoff had proved adamant, and Droopy was too distressed at his failure to come and admit it.

In that case Roger had determined to make a clean breast of the whole affair, in the slender hope that the jury might disagree as to whether Georgina throwing the scent-bottle or his striking Sir Humphrey over the heart had been the real cause of death. Owing to the ensuing doubts as to which of them had inflicted the fatal injury they might get off with transportation for life, if not they would die as they had lived and go bravely side by side in the death-cart to Tyburn.

To begin with he spoke of his first meeting with Georgina. Of her lonely childhood and unhappy upbringing from the fact that all her neighbours in the county had ostracised her on account of her gipsy blood. The judge heard him patiently at first and then began to fiddle restlessly with his nosegay. Roger saw that he must soon come to more cogent matters, and was preparing to start on the story of the fatal week-end when there was a sudden stir in the doorway of the court.

With his heart in his mouth Roger stopped speaking and stared in that direction. To his bitter disappointment it was only a messenger, but the message was for him, and an usher brought it over to the witness-box.

Having asked the judge's permission he read it. The folded paper bore a scrawl by Droopy Ned which ran:

"When I reached the Russian Embassy I learned that Vorontzoff had already gone out, to spend the day at Richmond. I have gone after him."

Roger drew his hand across his eyes. This was too terrible. Every­thing still hung in the balance. Droopy might yet succeed in bringing the Russian to the Old Bailey, but, perhaps not for another hour or so. On the other hand Vorontzoff might refuse to come, so it was impossible to tell the judge that another witness was still being sought for. There was only one thing to do. Somehow he must spin out his evidence without finally committing himself until the very last possible moment.

It was eleven o'clock as he resumed his tale. He spoke of Georgina's unfailing generosity and of her kindness to her servants; then when he saw that the judge was getting restless again he brought in her strange gift of second sight, and managed to intrigue the court for some minutes by giving examples of it.

Where the minutes had flown during the judge's summing up they now seemed to drag interminably, and Roger had never realised before how many words had to be spoken to fill sixty seconds.

For some twelve minutes the judge listened to him without comment, then he suddenly coughed, and said: "None of this is relevant. The witness must confine himself to facts affecting the case."

Roger murmured an apology and was forced to start on the house-party at Stillwaters. On coming into court that morning he had felt ghastly. The torn muscles of his shoulder throbbed and nagged, seeming to thrust their pain down into his backbone and chest. His swollen eye felt as big as a cricket ball, and his head ached intolerably. But now, in the intensity of his effort to hold the interest of the court he forgot all his pains and injuries. He was a natural orator and an excellent raconteur, and as he described the house and guests it was clear that everyone in court was following the picture that he drew with the closest attention.

But by half-past eleven there was no more that he could say without getting to the meat of the matter. For a few minutes he attempted to hold his audience with an account of witty remarks that Fox and Selwyn had made over dinner, but the judge rapped sharply on his desk and said sternly:

"This is not material evidence. The witness is wasting the time of the court. He must come to the point or stand down."

Roger again apologised, then started to tell how they had played cards after dinner. But under the judge's disapproving stare began to falter, and it was still only twenty-five to twelve. He knew that he had reached the last extremity.

*****

But there was just one more thing that he could try. He broke off what he was saying and asked the judge's permission to send a written note up to him. Consent was given and paper brought to him. On it he wrote:

My Lord,

I tender my humblest apologies, but I have been talking of irrelevant matters with the object of gaining time. A friend of mine is urgently seeking another witness who, if he will, can I believe, give fresh evidence which would prove the prisoner's innocence. I can make no promise that this witness will ever come into Court; but I beg you most earnestly to allow me to continue to occupy the witness-stand without further admonition until the Court adjourns for dinner. Should the witness not appear I then solemnly undertake to disclose all I know regarding Sir Humphrey Etheredge's death.

The note was passed up to the judge. Having read it he looked first at Georgina, then at Roger, and said:

" 'Tis obvious to us all that the witness is suffering considerable pain from his injuries. The time being twenty minutes to twelve, in order to afford him a respite, the court will adjourn for dinner twenty minutes earlier than usual. But I warn the witness that when he returns to the stand on our reopening the proceedings at one o'clock I will listen to nothing further from him except relevant facts."

As the judge rose Roger sighed his thanks and staggered half-fainting from the box.

A few minutes later he left a message with the porter on the door, to be given to Droopy in the event of his arrival, then he accompanied Colonel Thursby and his lawyers to a tavern across the street. After swallowing three gills of neat rum in quick succession he felt slightly better. He realised that he had performed a great feat in just talking out the time of the court and then securing an adjournment; but he also knew that his victory was only a temporary one. If Droopy and Vorontzoff did not appear by one o'clock the game was up.

But he was not doomed to be the victim of that consuming anxiety for much longer. Shortly after mid-day they did appear, and the Russian's demeanour was cold but courteous.

When the court reassembled, Georgina's counsel asked leave to place the Russian Ambassador in the box at once, as his evidence would render further testimony by Roger unnecessary.

Vorontzoff told the court through an interpreter that his second appearance there was occasioned by the fact that, as a foreigner, he had little knowledge of the workings of British justice. When he had given his evidence before he had been under the impression that al­though Lady Etheredge denied throwing the scent-bottle, if it was proved that she had, she would still be able to enter a plea of having done so in self-defence, and so secure her acquittal.

He went on smoothly to the effect that he had since been too occupied with his own affairs to follow the case, and it was only that morning, when Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel had come to him at Rich­mond, that he had realised that Lady Etheredge was in serious danger of being condemned to death for her act. This had caused him to take an entirely new view of his own responsibility in the matter.

He then confessed that previously he had omitted a part of the evidence he could have given, from a natural reluctance to disclose the fact that he had been spying on Lady Etheredge on the morning of her husband's death. Intrigued to learn the result of his own letter to Sir Humphrey he had risen early. He had heard the Baronet arrive and followed him to Lady Etheredge's room. The door having been left ajar he had peeped through the crack and actually witnessed the altercation. Sir Humphrey had raised his whip to strike his wife and, as he struck, she had thrown the scent-bottle at him. She had fainted as a result of the blow, but, although the bottle had caught him on the head, it had not even knocked him down. He had appeared a little stunned for a moment, then walked over to her washstand and bathed the cut on his temple. Therefore he obviously could not have died from the crack on the head, but must have been seized by an apoplexy a few moments later. Not wishing to be seen, Vorontzoff had then stolen away. He concluded his evidence by saying that had Lady Etheredge seen what he had, she would no doubt have told the truth about throw­ing the bottle, but her swoon had prevented her from knowing the comparatively harmless effect it had had, and finding her husband in a fit on the floor when she came to, she had obviously thought that to have been the result of her own act.

Roger sighed with relief. The Russian had told the story, almost word for word as he had briefed Droopy to give it to him.

The judge then instructed the jury that they should return a verdict of "Not Guilty."

A quarter of an hour later Georgina, Roger, Droopy Ned and Colonel Thursby were in the latter's coach heading westward. Georgina was holding Roger's hand and she squeezed it tenderly as she said:

"My dear, my sweet, my perfect knight. I can scarce yet believe it true. But tell us, I beg, how you worked this wondrous miracle?"

He laughed. "Did you not see Droopy hand Vorontzoff a piece of yellowed parchment as they left the court? Twas the Russian's fee for bearing false witness."

"I saw him do so," said the Colonel. "What was it, Roger?"

" 'Twas a letter that I stole whilst in Russia, Sir; the only evidence in the world that the Czarina Catherine murdered her hus­band. The Prime Minister said that it was useless to him as it could never be published, so last night I got it back from him to use as a bargaining-counter with Vorontzoff. Thank God he considered it his duty to buy it; for I was damnably afraid that he would be of the same mind as Mr. Pitt. And, had he been so, Georgina and I would have danced our last dance together on empty air."

"May it please God to spare you both for many years of joyous dancing yet, said the Colonel, with tears in his eyes.

"Or years of married bliss, for that matter," added Droopy Ned.

"Natalia!" exclaimed Roger, recalling for the first time in many hours that he had a wife.

Droopy shook his head. "Vorontzoff asked me to break it to you. As a result of her fall your wife died of an internal haemorrhage in the early hours of the morning. He said, too, that since she lived as a Russian, and died as a Russian, he hoped you would agree to his send­ing her body back to Russia for burial."

"So you were married, Roger," Georgina whispered. "That was the wedding-ring that I saw in the glass. Then the whole of my prophecy came true."

"But he is married no longer," persisted Droopy mischievously.

Roger and Georgina looked at one another; then they both smiled and slowly shook their heads.

"Nay," she said with a little sob, and she squeezed Roger's hand until it hurt. "We'll not risk marriage; but in this life, and in all our lives to come, we will remain for ever friends."

THE END