"Yes, your Grace. It isn’t that," was the agitated reply. "I have to report an outrage that’s been committed on one of the under-servants. Jennings, the third gardener, was coming back from church through the copse in the park, when he was lassoed, your Grace, same as they do buffalo, I’ve been told, in foreign parts. A rope shot out of the bushes over his shoulders, and then a man ran up as he was struggling on the ground; but let him go, saying it was a joke. Jennings hasn’t got any enemies that he knows of, and it was a wicked thing to do, because he’s a bit of a cripple and walks lame. It’s shook him a good deal." "I am not surprised at that," said the Duke. "Possibly it was only intended as a practical joke, but you had better inform the constable in the village, and instruct him to inquire into the matter." The butler retired, and the Duke smiled grimly. "Ziegler has begun to put in some of his fine work," he muttered. "The initial blunder of his agents in mistaking a servant’s limp for mine won’t stop him long. I shall begin to like the excitement soon, I expect." But as the day wore to evening, and the evening to night, the sensation of being _hunted_ vexed his nerves. He found himself prolonging his solitary dinner for the sake of the company of the butler and footman who waited upon him, and afterwards he abstained from the moonlit stroll on the terrace to which he felt tempted. It was not till the mansion had been barred and bolted for the night that he ceased to fumble frequently for the revolver which he had carried all day. Before retiring he inquired of Manson if the constable had traced the maltreaters of Jennings, and he was not surprised to learn that there had been no discoveries. Mr. Clinton Ziegler was not the man to employ agents incapable of baffling a village policeman. The room which Beaumanoir occupied was the great state bed-chamber that had been used by his predecessors from time immemorial—a gaunt apartment with a cavernous fireplace and heavily curtained mullioned windows. He did not like the room, but had consented to sleep there on seeing that the old retainers would be scandalized by his sleeping anywhere but in the "Duke’s Room." After locking the door and seeing to the window fastenings, he took the additional precaution of examining the chimney. Bending his head clear of the massive mantelpiece, he looked up and saw that at the end of the broad shaft quite a large circle of star-lit sky was visible, while a cold blast struck downwards of sufficient volume to purify the air of the room.