"Surely not much explanation is required. It is only a few minutes ago since I informed you that your presence in this establishment could no longer be permitted, and now you favour me with this amazing story." Cecil started forward. A new light came into his eyes. "Has anyone been staying here resembling me?" "So much resembling you that we shall be obliged if you will pay his bill, which lies, unpaid, on the cashier's desk." Cecil gave an exclamation--not of pleasure. "By Jove! It's Hubert! I see it all! He has been up to some of his infernal tricks with Hetty and her mother! If he has!" He turned upon the manager, "Where is he?" The manager hesitated. "Where is who? _You_ are standing here. When I last saw you, you were entering a private sitting-room with two gentlemen who happened to have a particular desire for your society." "Where is this sitting-room?" "I will show you if you really don't know." The manager led the way--still smiling. Cecil went after him. As they moved along a corridor, into which the manager turned, they came upon a lady who was standing outside one of the sitting-rooms, and who, not to put too fine a point on it, seemed listening at the door. Her back was turned towards them as they advanced. It was only when they were quite close to her that she seemed to become conscious of their approach. When she arrived at such a state of consciousness she sprang up--she had been stooping a good deal forward before--and sprang round. She was in evening dress. A fine, tall, generously proportioned woman, with big bright eyes, and red-gold hair, she was Hubert's "oner"--"Angel." As her glance fell upon Cecil she gave a start--a most melodramatic start--so melodramatic a start that she bumped herself, quite unintentionally, but with considerable force, against the wall. "You!" she exclaimed. Cecil, on his part, appeared to recognise the lady. "You!" he said--without any appearance of undue deference in his manner. His arrival on the scene seemed to have thrown the lady into a state of really curious agitation. She stood with her back against the wall, staring at him as if he were a ghost. She positively trembled. "How--how did you get out?" she asked--speaking in a sort of gasp. "I was never in." Cecil turned to the manager. "It's a little complicated, but I think that I begin to understand the situation." He turned to the lady. He pointed to the sitting-room, outside which she was standing. "Who is in there?" Angel did not answer. Leaning forward, she rapped with her knuckles against the panel of the door. CHAPTER V. THE TWINS CONFRONT EACH OTHER. When there came that rapping at the door, Hubert started back. "Who's that?" he cried. The big man still retained his grasp on Hubert's shoulder. He tightened it. "Never mind who it is. Sign that paper." There was a voice without. "Open the door!"