“The Chief not down yet?” asked Stratford, looking round again and making sure that Sir Dugald and Lady Haigh were the only members of the party who were missing. It was the first time that the two invalids had been allowed to join the rest at dinner, and the servants were obviously unhappy at the delay. “No,” said Fitz; “the poor old chap is so thin after his illness that Lady Haigh is making Chanda Lal pad his dress-clothes a bit to keep him from looking quite so like a scarecrow.” “I wish you would have the goodness to confine your jokes to other people, Anstruther, and not go sharpening your wit on the Chief,” said Stratford, irritably. “Look here, all of you--there was something I particularly wanted to say when I got you all together, and this is just the chance. I beg and entreat you all not to allude after to-day--even in private letters or in talking to friends--to the way in which I managed to get the treaty signed.” “Why, Stratford, there was nothing to be ashamed of!” cried Dick. “It was one of the finest things I ever heard of.” “You don’t see what I am driving at. At present the Chief has got it into his head that the sudden change in the King’s attitude was entirely due to the discovery by independent means of Fath-ud-Din’s treachery, and the consequent promotion of Jahan Beg. He thinks that I happened on the spot exactly at the right moment and got the treaty signed without a bit of trouble, and I want him to go on thinking so.” “But do you mean to say you don’t want him to know that it was all through you that the old fraud was unmasked, and that you went to the Palace for the sake of rescuing Miss Keeling, and at the risk of your life? What on earth is your reason?” “I should have thought you would have seen it at once. I want the Chief to get the full credit for this piece of work.” “But this is nonsense!” cried Dick. “Why should the Chief get the credit for what you did? He is the last man in the world to wish to wear borrowed plumes.” “Of course he is, and that’s the reason that I want no one beyond our immediate selves to know that they are borrowed. Lady Haigh honestly believes that he did all the work, and that I merely reaped the fruit, so that she won’t let out. Sir Dugald has never been properly appreciated at home, and it is hard on him to lose the reputation he deserves for the way he has managed this affair, which he will do if it once gets known that it was not he who got the treaty signed after all. He is an old man, and he will do no more work after this. His illness has left marks on him. You have noticed it, Miss Keeling, I am sure?” “There is some loss of brain power,” said Georgia, hesitatingly, “which may be only temporary. But I fear his official career is over.” “You see that, then? Let him get his peerage and the credit of having made the treaty. After all, he did by far the greater part of the work.”