Passing through a net-work of vines, the British officer comes upon two people in earnest conversation. The one wears a scarlet and black domino, the other a coquettish Carmen costume. "That black and red domino is my patron," mutters the officer as he glides by unnoticed. "He does not see me and I do not wish to see _him_ just at present." A few steps farther and the British officer comes to a sudden halt. "By Heavens!" he ejaculates, half aloud; "what a chance I see before me! It would be worth something to know what brought Dick Stanhope here to-night; it would be worth yet more to _keep_ him here _until after midnight_. If I had an accomplice to detain _him_ while I, myself, appear at the Agency in time, then the C---- street Raid would move without him, the lead would be given to _me_. It's worth trying for. It _shall_ be done, and my patron in black and red shall help me." He turns, and only looks back to mutter: "Go on, Dick Stanhope; this night shall begin the trial that, when ended, shall decide which of the two is the better man!" And the British officer hurries straight on until he stands beside the black and scarlet domino. CHAPTER IX. "A FALSE MOVE IN THE GAME." Pretty, piquant Winnifred French was the staunch friend of Leslie Warburton. When Winnie was the petted only daughter of "French, the rich merchant," she and Leslie Uliman had been firm friends. When Leslie Uliman, the adopted daughter of the aristocratic Uliman's, gave her hand in marriage to Archibald Warburton, a wealthy invalid and a widower with one child, Winnie was her first bridesmaid. Time had swept away the fortune of French, the merchant, and death had robbed Leslie of her adopted parents, and then Winnifred French gladly accepted the position of salaried companion to her dearest friend. Not long after, Alan Warburton had returned from abroad, and then had begun a queer complication. For some reason known only to himself, Alan Warburton had chosen to dislike his beautiful sister-in-law, and he had conceived a violent admiration for Winnie,--an admiration which might have been returned, perhaps, had Winnie been less loyal in her friendship for Leslie. But, perceiving Alan's dislike for her dearest friend, Winnie lost no opportunity for annoying him, and lavishing upon him her stinging sarcasms. On her part, Leslie Warburton loved her companion with a strong sisterly affection. As for her feelings toward Alan Warburton, it would have been impossible to guess, from her manner, whether he was to her an object of love, hatred, or simple indifference. When Winnie and Alan turned their backs upon the scene in the anteroom, and entered the dancing hall, the girl was in a particularly perverse mood. "I shall not dance," she said petulantly. "It's too early and too warm," and she entered a flowery alcove, and seated herself upon a couch overhung with vines. "May I sit down, Winnie?" "No."