Peckover shrugged. "For aught I know to the contrary he is Lord Quorn," he replied blandly. "Rats!" cried the dispossessed one wrathfully. "It's a put-up job between you and him." "My good sir----" "You know he's not Lord Quorn, and you know I am." "I've told you already, not being in the know of the Heralds' College, I'm not in a position to say anything about it." "Aren't you?" sneered Quorn. "I know all about it, though. When I drank that loaded stuff that sent me to sleep that was your chance, and you took it." "Did I?" "You did. And I don't blame you. But I've woke up now." "Then," rejoined Peckover sarcastically, "since you are so wide-awake, perhaps you can explain why I didn't take the title myself?" "I suppose," Quorn replied nastily, "you didn't feel you could fill the part." "Of a British nobleman?" Peckover laughed scornfully. "Too steady and respectable, eh? My highly creditable record wouldn't have stood in my way if I'd had a chance of nobbling the coronet." Quorn brought his fist down with a bang on the table. "D--n it, man, who is this fellow?" "Lord Quorn," Peckover maintained. "Lord Quorn!" The real man could not find words to express his disgust. "How did you pick him up?" he demanded, seeing the uselessness of arguing the question of identity. "He picked me up," Peckover replied coolly. "How? When? Where?" "I'll tell you all about it, if you won't make such a noise," Peckover said suavely. "He came to the _Quorn Arms_ just after you had made that little mistake in the refreshment, and announced himself as Lord Quorn; and who was I to say he was not Lord Quorn?" "Funny," remarked Quorn, "that he should have brought you along here." "Fact is," was the ready explanation, "he was afraid of being caught by those Hemyock terrors who straightaway began tumbling over one another to get him. Brought me along here as a chaperon, or an umbrella, if you like, and I've made myself useful." "I see," said Quorn suspiciously. "And how about being a millionaire?" "That," replied Peckover, "is how we worked the trick. Lady Agatha is a nailer. She wouldn't have wasted board and lodging on a poor man. And as a rich chap I can whistle the dear girls off when they get closer to Quorn than he cares about." The assumption of the title irritated its real holder. "Quorn?" he repeated resentfully. "I like that. There's only one Quorn, and I'm going to show everybody where he is." "Lalage and all?" was the pertinent objection. "Oh, confound Lalage!" "Just so--confound Lalage," was the hearty response, "Only take care Lalage does not confound you." For a few moments Quorn preserved an aggrieved and discomfited silence. "You don't suppose," he said at length, "I am going to stand being humbugged like this." "I don't reckon anything about it," replied Peckover with wise mendacity. "You two Quorns had better fight it out between yourselves. Only----" "Only what?" the other snapped.