"Well, you see," he said, "I've promised her ladyship." "Never mind that; your business is to fish these young people out of their troubles. I'll drive at once to Lady Scarsdale's hotel, and tell her of your change of plans, and go down myself by the first train to-morrow morning to Salisbury." "Then," he said, closing his valise with a snap, "I shall leave at once for Winchester." "Good boy!" said Aunt Eliza. "It's too bad they spoiled you by making you a gentleman; you have a first-class head for business." "It is just what I've been thinking myself," he said ruefully. "Have you?" cried the old lady, her face lighting up with genuine interest. "I'm glad to hear it. You just put this matter through successfully, and maybe it will be worth more to you than your expenses. Now I must be off, and so must you." "Very well. I'll put up at the George," he said, as he helped her into a hansom. "Right you are!" she cried, and signalled her driver to go on. As Carrington found that he would not reach Winchester till late, he telegraphed Mrs. Allingford that he would see her the next morning, and that he had received news of the whereabouts of her husband and Scarsdale's wife, who were all right and would join them on the morrow. On his arrival he went straight to the hotel that Mrs. Allingford had designated in her telegram, to find that that lady had retired for the night, leaving, however, a note for him which contained full instructions, and stated in addition that she had received his telegram, for which she was profoundly grateful, and that he must not hesitate to wake her if, by so doing, he could cause her to rejoin her husband one instant sooner. As it was by this time close upon midnight, Carrington decided to let matters rest as they were till morning; especially as he had before he slept to hunt up his brother at the barracks, and so insure his attendance at court the next day. This was easily arranged; but the two men had much to talk over, and it was nearly daybreak when Jack set out to return to the hotel. The shortest way back was by a cross cut through the mysterious darkness of the cathedral close, within which he heard the voices of two men in heated dispute, the tone of the one shrill with rage, while those of the other proclaimed that he had been drinking. Carrington would have passed without noticing, so intent was he on his own affairs, had not a name which one of them pronounced arrested his attention and caused him to stop. "You call Robert Allingford a thief!" came the thick tones of the intoxicated man. "I say he stole it!" cried the shrill voice of the other. "Call my brother a thief!" reiterated the first speaker. "He's Consul--gentleman. Gentlemen don't steal elephants." "I say he stole it! Right away that day! Didn't wait for me to redeem it." "You dare to call my brother thief!" The voice grew menacing. "Twenty pounds he gave me--only one hundred dollars--for an elephant. I say he's a thief----!"