"I've lived a life of sturt and strife,
I die by treacherie—"
I challenged Alain with an open smile as he backed before us; and no sooner was the dance over, than I saw him desert Lady Frazer on a hurried excuse, and seek the door to satisfy himself that his men were on guard.
I dropped laughing into a chair beside Flora. "Anne," she whispered, "who is on the stairs?"
"Two Bow Street runners."
If you have seen a dove—a dove caught in a gin! "The back stairs!" she urged.
"They will be watched too. But let us make sure." I crossed to the tea-room, and, encountering a waiter, drew him aside. Was there a man watching the back entrance? He could not tell me. For a guinea would he find out? He went and, returned in less than a minute. Yes, there was a constable below. "It's just a young gentleman to be put to the haw for debt," I explained, recalling the barbarous and, to me, still unmeaning phrase. "I'm no speiring," replied the waiter.
I made my way back, and was not a little disgusted to find my chair occupied by the unconscionable Chevenix.
"My dear Miss Flora, you are unwell!" Indeed, she was pale enough, poor child, and trembling. "Major, she will be swooning in another minute. Get her to the tea-room, quick! while I fetch Mrs. Gilchrist. She must be taken home."
"It is nothing," she faltered: "it will pass. Pray do not" As she glanced up, she caught my meaning. "Yes, yes: I will go home."
She took the Major's arm, while I hurried to the card-room. As luck would have it, the old lady was in the act of rising from the green table, having just cut out from a rubber. Mr. Robbie was her partner; and I saw (and
