Andrew, with a snort of indignation, fronted the young Solicitor.
"And I suppose yours was a cock-and-bull story, too," he said. "Ofcourse, it must have been, since Lord Chetney is not dead. But don'ttell me," he protested, "that you are not Chudleigh's son either."
"I'm sorry," said the youngest member, smiling in some embarrassment,"but my name is not Chudleigh. I assure you, though, that I know thefamily very well, and that I am on very good terms with them."
"You should be!" exclaimed the Baronet; "and, judging from the libertiesyou take with the Chetneys, you had better be on very good terms withthem, too."
The young man leaned back and glanced toward the servants at the far endof the room.
"It has been so long since I have been in the Club," he said, "that Idoubt if even the waiters remember me. Perhaps Joseph may," he added."Joseph!" he called, and at the word a servant stepped briskly forward.
The young man pointed to the stuffed head of a great lion which wassuspended above the fireplace.
"Joseph," he said, "I want you to tell these gentlemen who shot thatlion. Who presented it to the Grill?"
Joseph, unused to acting as master of ceremonies to members of the Club,shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
"Why, you--you did," he stammered.
"Of course I did!" exclaimed the young man. "I mean, what is the name ofthe man who shot it! Tell the gentlemen who I am. They wouldn't believeme."
"Who you are, my lord?" said Joseph. "You are Lord Edam's son, the Earlof Chetney."
"You must admit," said Lord Chetney, when the noise had died away, "thatI couldn't remain dead while my little brother was accused of murder.I had to do something. Family pride demanded it. Now, Arthur, as theyounger brother, can't afford to be squeamish, but personally I shouldhate to have a brother of mine hanged for murder."
"You certainly showed no scruples against hanging me," said theAmerican, "but in the face of your evidence I admit my guilt, and Isentence myself to pay the full penalty of the law as we are made to payit in my own country. The order of this court is," he announced, "thatJoseph shall bring me a wine-card, and that I sign it for five bottlesof the Club's best champagne." "Oh, no!" protested the man with thepearl stud, "it is not for _you_ to sign it. In my opinion it is SirAndrew who should pay the costs. It is time you knew," he said, turningto that gentleman, "that unconsciously you have been the victim of whatI may call a patriotic conspiracy. These stories have had a more seriouspurpose than merely to amuse. They have been told with the worthy objectof detaining you from the House of Commons. I must explain to you,that all through this evening I have had a servant waiting in TrafalgarSquare with instructions to bring me word as soon as the light overthe House of Commons had ceased to burn. The light is now out, and theobject for which we plotted is attained."
The Baronet glanced keenly at the man with the black pearl, and thenquickly at his watch. The smile disappeared from his lips, and his facewas set in stern and forbidding lines.
"And may I know," he asked icily, "what was the object of your plot!"
"A most worthy one," the other retorted. "Our object was to keep youfrom advocating the expenditure of many millions of the people's moneyupon more battleships. In a word, we have been working together toprevent you from passing the Navy Increase Bill."
Sir Andrew's face bloomed with brilliant color. His body shook withsuppressed emotion.
16 What was the object of your plot?]
"My dear sir!" he cried, "you should spend more time at the House andless at your Club. The Navy Bill was brought up on its third readingat eight o'clock this evening. I spoke for three hours in its favor. Myonly reason for wishing to return again to the House to-night was to supon the terrace with my old friend, Admiral Simons; for my work at theHouse was completed five hours ago, when the Navy Increase Bill waspassed by an overwhelming majority."
The Baronet rose and bowed. "I have to thank you, sir," he said, "for amost interesting evening."
The American shoved the wine-card which Joseph had given him toward thegentleman with the black pearl.
"You sign it," he said.
THE END.
In the Fog Page 14