For a moment the Earl looked puzzled. Then he exclaimed: "By George! Claude Duval up to date! No, sir, I'll be hanged if----" His lordship stopped suddenly. He was keen of hearing, and as he spoke he had heard, or thought he heard, a distant car. Even if it meant a dance with his daughter, he would detain the man until assistance arrived. In a moment he had altered his voice. "On second thoughts, sir," he said, "I don't know. After all, it's a tradition of your--er--profession. Perhaps you will oblige the gentleman, Eva." As he spoke he pressed the girl's hand so that she might know that something lay behind his words. "Where's the gramophone?" he asked. While searching for the instrument his lordship actually started whistling, lest the highwayman should also hear the car. "Ah, here it is," he said aloud. Then, in a whisper to his daughter, "Car coming. Distract his attention." In his anxiety his lordship even hummed as he hurriedly manipulated the instrument, inserting the first record that came to hand. He wound up the toy, and a baritone voice sang raucously:-- "Egypt! my Cleopatra! I ain't no flatt'rer, But dis is true, (I'm a-goin' to tell her) Egypt! if you don't want me. . . . In a trice Lady Eva had found a more suitable record, and after a momentary pause the instrument struck up "The Darkie Cake Walk," as played by the New York Municipal Band, at Manhattan Beach, Long Island, U.S.A. "May I have the honour?" asked Cunningham, hat in hand, with a low bow. Lady Eva inclined coldly, and took off her wraps. The man was certainly polite. He led her as though she were a princess, and any misgivings were soon at rest. It was a quaint scene. It is doubtful if Betelgeuse had ever looked down upon a quainter. The firs formed a sombre background. The moon illuminated the green sward in front, and on it a highwayman and a lady motorist stepped to a catching dance tune, emanating from a gramophone on a Panhard motor, controlled by a peer of the realm. The light of an acetylene lamp shone like a gigantic foot-light illuminating the front of the green stage. The floor was not an ideal one, though cattle had cropped it close and the winds had swept it dry, but the pair were accomplished dancers. Thrice had they paced the length of the floor. Now they turned again, hand in hand, with heads thrown back, and uplifted feet. There was the unmistakable sound of an approaching car. Cunningham must have heard it, but recklessly he continued the dance. [Illustration: "THERE WAS THE UNMISTAKABLE SOUND OF AN APPROACHING CAR." (_p. 198._)] With a toot it hove into sight, and Lord Tadcaster turned his own horn into a prolonged howl, signifying unimaginable trouble. This, and the unusual scene at the side, brought up the oncoming car to a smart halt. They backed abreast of the Panhard. "Robbery! Help!" cried the Earl.