"This is a strange _rencontre_," he said. "It must be Fate. You and I have never once met among all the amusements of a London season; and we meet now in the rain, on the lonely river, at a time when we ought most to forget and ignore each other's existence. Of all people in the world, I must be the last you would have wished to come across to-night." "En effet," she muttered, "c'est un rencontre assez mal-à-propos." Her coolness seemed contagious. He proceeded with a _sang-froid_ too complete to be perfectly natural: "I came here to oblige my dearest friend, a man for whom I would make almost any sacrifice. That foreign prince at Windsor has taken a sudden fancy to inspect a regiment of Household Cavalry in their barracks. He is there at this moment, attended by every officer available for duty. My friend Captain Vanguard came to me in the greatest agitation. He had a rendezvous, he said, for this evening with a lady. It could not be put off. It was of the gravest importance. If he failed to appear, she was lost. He reposed entire confidence in my honour. He asked my advice. What was to be done? I considered. I remembered my obligations to him. I put myself in his place. In short, here I am, _in_ his place, pledged to conduct you safely to the Castle Hotel, there to wait till he is at leisure to join you, after which I am free to take whatever course I think due to my own character in this most awkward complication. I need not say that it never entered my head the Miss Ross I had heard of in society, or the lady whose _enlèvement_ I was to conduct for my friend, could be--well--could be _you_! Madame, we have met in a manner that is creditable to neither of us--that is utterly ruinous to one. Can we not ignore this clumsy _contretemps_? Can we not agree to conceal it, and never meet again?" Jin felt much reassured by this climax, though ready to sink with shame and vexation at the whole business. "You know I am going to--to _marry_ Captain Vanguard," she said, looking him straight in the face, though she hesitated a little in her sentence. "Will you promise to throw no impediment in my way--to keep your own counsel? In short, to let bygones be bygones, if, on my part, I consent to leave the past unscrutinised and unavenged?" "It's a fair offer," he replied; "but I cannot give you up the boy." "Then war to the knife!" she burst out recklessly. "I will lose husband, lover, home, character, everything--life itself--rather than part with Gustave for a day!"