“Very well,” he said with a sigh, “I am sorry you think so badly of me, and I will do my best to open your eyes as to the real truth of matters. As, however, I cannot do that to-night, I will ask you to allow me to withdraw.” “I have no objection,” said the Premier, “but before you go perhaps I may offer you some hospitality. I do not wish to be so ungrateful and ungracious as to deny that I owe you some thanks for to-night's work.” “I am much obliged,” answered Westerham, “but I would rather be excused the humiliation of having to accept hospitality from the hands of a man who does me so much injustice. Good-night.” He passed out of the room, and the Premier let him go without a word. In the hall the hosts of departing guests eyed him with curiosity and some anxiety. Lady Kathleen was standing at the foot of the staircase, and, to their surprise, she stepped forward and held out her hand. Westerham bowed over it but said nothing. He would indeed have choked over any words which he might have sought to utter. He was, perhaps, in as trying a position as he could well be in. It might have been that Lady Kathleen expected him to say something, for she gazed after his retreating figure a little sadly and wistfully. The guests in their evening wraps drew aside to let this tall man in a blue serge suit pass them. A few of them held out their hands, and some of them called “Good-night”; but Westerham passed on unheeding. The taxicab in which he had come down from town was waiting at the door, and stepping into it he ordered the man to return to London. It was nearly three o'clock when he reached his hotel. There, to his extreme annoyance, he was informed by the porter, who now regarded him with open suspicion, that a gentleman was waiting to see him. “What is his name?” demanded Westerham, sharply. “He didn't give any, sir,” said the man, “but he is in the smoking-room.” Westerham entered that vast and dimly-lighted apartment, to be greeted on the threshold by Inspector Rookley. “Good heavens! sir,” cried Westerham; “am I never to be rid of this constant persecution? “Surely,” he continued, “you received fairly explicit instructions through the Commissioner from Lord Penshurst to let me alone?” “I know, sir,” said the detective, soothingly, “but you have an unfortunate habit of stirring us up afresh. I have called now about this business at Trant Hall.” “Oh!” said Westerham, starting, “what about it?” “I understand,” said Rookley, “that you were there?” “If it's any satisfaction for you to know it,” said Westerham, “I was. But I don't quite remember seeing any members of the police force there, and I should be glad to ascertain how it is that my presence at the Hall was notified to you.”