"I have come a long way to see Lord Hartledon," he observed. "It might be less trouble and cost for me to go on to Paris and see him there, than to start back for home, and come here again when he returns to England. Are you sure you can't give me his address?" "I'm very sorry I can't, sir. There was a talk of their going on to Switzerland," continued Hedges, improvising the journey, "and so coming back through Germany; and there _was_ a talk of their making Italy before the heat came on, and stopping there. Any way, sir, I dare say they are already away from Paris." The stranger regarded Hedges attentively, rather to the discomfiture of that functionary, who thought he was doubted. He then asked a great many questions, some about Lord Hartledon's personal habits, some about Lady Maude: the butler answered them freely or cautiously, as he thought he might, feeling inclined all the while to chase the intruder off the premises. Presently he turned his attention on the house. "A fine old place, this, Mr. Butler." "Yes, sir." "I suppose I could look over it, if I wished?" Hedges hesitated. He was privately asking himself whether the law would allow the stranger, if he had come after any debt of Lord Hartledon's, to refuse to leave the house, once he got into it. "I could ask Lady Kirton, sir, if you particularly wished it." "Lady Kirton? You have some one in the house, then!" "The Dowager Lady Kirton's here, sir. One of her sons also--Captain Kirton; but he is confined to his room." "Then I would rather not go in," said the stranger quickly. "I'm very disappointed to have come all this way and not find Lord Hartledon." "Can I forward any letter for you, sir? If you'd like to intrust one to me, I'll send it as soon as we know of any certain address." "No--no, I think not," said the stranger, musingly. "There might be danger," he muttered to himself, but Hedges caught the words. He stood swaying the umbrella-handle about, looking down at it, as if that would assist his decision. Then he looked at Hedges. "My business with Lord Hartledon is quite private, and I would rather not write. I'll wait until he is back in England: and see him then." "What name, sir?" asked Hedges, as the stranger turned away. "I would prefer not to leave my name," was the candid answer. "Good evening." He walked briskly down the avenue, and Hedges stood looking after him, slightly puzzled in his mind. "I don't believe it's a creditor; that I don't. He looks like a parson to me. But it's some trouble though, if it's not debt. 'Danger' was the word: 'there might be danger.' Danger in writing, he meant. Any way, I'm glad he didn't go in to that ferreting old dowager. And whatever it may be, his lordship's able to pay it now." CHAPTER XIX. A CHANCE MEETING. Some few weeks went by. On a fine June morning Lord and Lady Hartledon were breakfasting at their hotel in the Rue Rivoli. She was listlessly playing with her cup; he was glancing over _Galignani's_.