"Softened his adamantine breast?" "Well, hardly. Not what you might call quite. In fact, I should say that, if he remains in his present frame of mind, he will send you, for a certainty, to something much worse than penal servitude for life." "Is that so? Very kind of you, I'm sure. I knew you'd make a mess of it, my love." "Wait till the play is over. There's always a muddle in the middle. The third act has not begun." III. "Triggs, this is the deuce of a nice state of things!" The latest ornament of the woolsack was seated in the privacy of his own apartment prior to retiring to rest. But the cares of his position had followed him there. He was working his way through a mass of papers when his host appeared at the door. "To what state of things does your Grace refer?" The Duke looked round as if to make sure that they had the room to themselves. He seemed to be in a state of considerable agitation; indeed, the abruptness of his entry had in itself suggested agitation. "Of--of course you know that I--I'm a magistrate." "Certainly I know it." Something in the other's tone seemed to have a soothing influence upon the Duke, possibly because it roused the spirit of mischief that was in him. He sat in an arm-chair. Crossing his arms upon his chest, stretching out his long legs in front of him, he regarded the toes of his evening shoes. "Triggs, I have had an application made to me for a warrant for your arrest." The Chancellor went a peony hue, as we have seen him do before. "Your Grace is joking." "I wish I were. I found it anything but a joke, and I am afraid that you are not likely to find it one either." Sir Tristram removed his glasses. He held them in his hand. His face became hard and stern. "May I ask your Grace to be more explicit?" The Duke turned. Placing one elbow upon the arm of his chair, he looked at Sir Tristram as he leaned his chin upon his hand. "Triggs, Miss Cullen has applied to me to issue a warrant against you for assault." "Surely such an application was irregular?" "I am not so sure of that--I am not so sure. Anyhow, I told her that it was. The only result of which, so far as I can judge, will be that she will make the application, in more regular form, either to me or to someone else to-morrow. But that is not the point. Triggs, did you do it?" "Is it necessary that your Grace should ask me?" "You didn't kiss her?" Sir Tristram took out his handkerchief. He actually gasped for breath. It is to be feared that at that moment the representative of English law almost told a lie. However, it was only almost; not quite. He merely temporised. "The whole affair is a pure absurdity." "How do you mean? Is the charge unfounded?" Sir Tristram drew his handkerchief across his brow. "Supposing I did kiss her?"