This Goring deemed but trickery to cover some act of deceit he had perpetrated, end terribly did the as yet baffled lover resolve to punish it; but he was rather surprised at first by the manner in which he was suddenly accosted by Cadbury, who now by chance entered the vestibule of the hotel in which several waiters were loitering, and, with all an Englishman's genuine horror of a 'scene,' made an effort to keep his temper. As if following suit with Sir Ranald, the peer, who now connected Alison's disappearance with Goring's liberty, though the dates did not tally, said to him haughtily, and in in a low tone, 'So, Captain Goring, it seems to have pleased you to follow my intended wife.' '_Your_ intended wife!' 'Miss Cheyne of Essilmont, to this place--to Antwerp, and that you have forced yourself upon her as soon as you had the opportunity of finding her alone. By heavens, you must have watched her steps closely.' 'Shuffler and juggler!' exclaimed Goring, in his rage becoming as furious in his speech as Sir Ranald. 'May I ask your reason for daring to apply these epithets to me?' asked Cadbury, reddening with passion to the tips of his coarse, hairy ears. 'I shall give them to you on the ramparts of the citadel, in the Champ de Manœuvres, or anywhere else you choose.' 'Are you engaged in a melodrama, without a musical accompaniment?' asked Cadbury, with a sneer. 'You will find it terribly real, I promise you.' 'Braggadocio!--behind the age. Bah! people don't fight duels now.' 'Cads and Cadburys, perhaps.' 'Permit me to pass,' said the peer, assuming what he thought an air of dignity that only made his vulgar little figure look more absurd. 'Not until I am fully answered,' replied Goring, resolutely barring his way. 'Of your past intentions, Captain Goring, we----' 'Who are _we_?' 'Sir Ranald and myself.' 'Well?' 'Of your past intentions we have an idea; but what are your present?' 'To discover her, and carry her off,' replied Goring, passionately. 'You know but too well where she is; but I don't understand why you come brawling in my hotel. Concierge, get a gendarme, and have this fellow expelled.' 'Will you meet me?' asked Goring, in a low and concentrated voice. 'Most certainly not. No man of honour is obliged to go out with a man who has been in the hands of the gendarmerie and inside a prison.' This recalled the story of the 'papers,' and roused Goring's blood to boiling heat. He suddenly, to the mingled amusement and dismay of the concierge and group of wondering waiters, made a brisk manual application to the nose of my Lord Cadbury, which he took between the first and second fingers of his right hand, and therewith administered such a wrench as made the 'hereditary legislator' dance with rage and pain. 'Now,' thought Goring, as he flung a card at Cadbury's feet, and strode into the broad and sunlit Place Verte, 'he must come out, or the devil is in it!'