"He can't very well refuse if we ask for it, can he?" "I suppose not," de Cartienne answered, lounging across the room towards the door. "I'll go and see James and let him know that we shall want the latchkey." "All right. And I say, Len," Cecil continued, "we must take Morton with us, of course." de Cartienne turned round with an angry frown upon his dark face. "I scarcely see how that would be possible," he said stiffly. "I think it would be taking rather a liberty with Fothergill. He only asks us two." In other circumstances I should promptly have refused to be one of the party, especially as the invitation appeared to come from a friend of de Cartienne's. But the darkening shade which I had seen flash across de Cartienne's face reawakened all my suspicions with regard to him and I instantly determined that, by some means or other, I would go. His evident reluctance to invite me only strengthened my intention, so, although he looked at me as if expecting to hear me express my indifference as to whether I went or not, I purposely refrained from doing anything of the sort. "Oh, that's all rot!" Cecil protested. "We can't go off and leave Morton boxed up here by himself." "I don't suppose Morton would care much about it," said de Cartienne sullenly. "On the contrary, I should enjoy it very much indeed," I interposed; "although, of course, I don't wish to go if you think that your friend would object," I added blandly. "It's rather dull here by oneself." "Of course it is! Morton, old chap, you shall go with us, never fear!" Cecil declared vigorously. "Tell you what, Len, if you won't do the agreeable and make things right with Fothergill--as you can, if you like, of course--I shan't go, so there! Which is it to be--both or neither?" "Both, of course," de Cartienne answered, with as good grace as possible. "I shouldn't have thought Morton would have cared about it, that's all. Be ready punctually at half-past seven, you men." "All right!" exclaimed Cecil, delighted at getting his own way for a change. "Good old Len! Morton, pitch that beastly Livy into the drawer and come and change your things. We'll have some fun to-night!" CHAPTER XXX. ECARTÉ WITH MR. FOTHERGILL. At a little before eight o'clock de Cartienne, Cecil, and I presented ourselves at the bar of the "Bull" Hotel, and inquired for Mr. Fothergill. We were shown at once by a waiter into a small private sitting-room, brilliantly illuminated and unmistakably cosy. Under the chandelier was a small round table glittering with plate and flowers; and, standing upon the hearthrug, critically surveying it, was a middle-aged, dapper-looking little man, in well-cut evening clothes, with a white camellia in his buttonhole.