When Carne retired to rest that evening, his inimitable valet was in a position to report that the sentries were already installed, and that their supper had been taken to them, by Mr. Greenthorpe’s orders, at ten o’clock precisely, by one of the under-footmen, who had been instructed to look after them. "Very good," said Carne; "I think I see my way now. I’ll sleep on my scheme and let you know what decision I have come to in the morning. If we pull this little business off successfully, there will be ten thousand pounds for you to pay into your credit, my friend." Belton bowed and thanked his master without a sign of emotion upon his face. After which Simon Carne went to bed. When he was called next morning, he discovered a perfect summer day. Brilliant sunshine streamed in at the windows, and the songs of the birds came from the trees outside. "An excellent augury," he said to himself as he jumped out of bed and donned the heavy dressing-gown his valet held open for him. "Miss Greenthorpe, my compliments to you. My lord marquis is not the only man upon whom you are conferring happiness to-day." His good humor did not leave him, for when he descended to the breakfast-room an hour later his face was radiant with smiles, and every one admitted that it would be impossible to meet a more charming companion. During the morning he was occupied in the library, writing letters. At one he lunched with his fellow-guests, none of the family being present, and at half-past went off to dress for the wedding ceremony. This important business completed, a move was made for the church; and in something less than a quarter of an hour the nuptial knot was tied, and Miss Sophie Greenthorpe, only daughter of Matthew Greenthorpe, erstwhile grocer and provision merchant of Little Bexter Street, Tottenham Court Road, left the building, on her husband’s arm, Marchioness of Kilbenham and future Duchess of Rugby. Simon Carne and his fellow-guests followed in her wake down the aisle, and, having entered their carriages, returned to the Park. The ball that evening was an acknowledged success, but, though he was an excellent dancer, and had his choice of the prettiest women in the room, Carne was evidently ill at ease. The number of times he stealthily examined his watch said this as plainly as any words. As a matter of fact, the last guest had scarcely arrived before he left the ball-room, and passed down the lobby towards the back stair-case, stopping _en route_ to glance at the billiard-room door. As he expected, it was closed, and a stalwart provincial policeman stood on guard before it. He made a jocular reference about the treasure the constable was guarding, and, with a laugh at himself for forgetting the way to his bedroom, retraced his steps to the stairs, up which he passed to his own apartment. Belton was awaiting him there.