"Then, what the deuce do you mean by frightening Miss Emsdale and my friends downstairs?" demanded Lord Fenlew's grandson. "Couldn't you have said in the beginning that there was no criminal charge against me?"
"I hadn't the remotest idea, your lordship, that any one suspected you of crime," said Mr. Chambers, with dignity.
"But, confound you, why didn't you explain the situation to Bramble? That was the sensible,—yes, the intelligent thing to do, Mr. Chambers."
"That is precisely what I did, your lordship, while we were at dinner,—we had a bottle of the wine Mr. Bramble says you are especially partial to,—but it wasn't until your heel came through the ceiling that they believed anything at all. Subsequently I discovered that her ladyship had prepared them for all sorts of trickery on my part. She had made them promise to die rather than give you up. Now that I see things as they are in a clear light, it occurs to me that your ladyship must have pretty thoroughly convinced the old gentlemen that Lord Temple is a fit subject for the gallows,—or at the very least, Newgate Prison. I fancy—"
Lady Jane laughed aloud, gaily, unrestrainedly.
"Oh, dear! What a mess I've made of things!" she cried. "Can you ever forgive me, Eric?"
"Never!" he cried, and Mr. Chambers took that very instant to stoop over for a word with the men at the foot of the ladder. He went farther and had several words with them. Indeed, it is not unlikely that he, in his eagerness to please, would have stretched it into a