lently, addressing the bewildered policemen. "Get back in the hall and don't breathe,—do you hear me? As for you—" Cricklewick's spasmodic grip on his arm checked the torrent.
Lady Jane was standing at the top of the steps, peering intently downward.
"What is it, Cricklewick?" she called out.
"Nothing, my lady,—nothing at all," the butler managed to say with perfect composure. "Merely a couple of newspaper reporters asking for—ahem—an interview. Stupid blighters! I—I sent them away in jolly quick order."
"Isn't that one of them still standing at the top of the steps?" inquired she.
"It's—it's only the night-watchman," said McFaddan.
"Oh, I see. Send him off, please. Lord Temple and I are leaving at once, Cricklewick. Julia, will you help me with my wraps?"
She disappeared from view. Julia ran swiftly up the steps.
Stuyvesant, apparently alone in the hall outside, put his hand to his head.
"Did—did she say Lord Temple?"
"Beat it!" said McFaddan.
"The chap the papers have been— What the devil has she to do with Lord Temple?"
"I forgot to get the key from Julia, damn it!" muttered McFaddan, suddenly trying the gate again.
"I say, Jane!" called out a strong, masculine voice from regions above. "Are you nearly ready?"
Rapid footsteps came down the unseen stairway, and
