The General, having acquired his information, relapsed into silence, which was only broken by Forsyth as the cab turned into Piccadilly. The short drive was nearly over, but before the cab stopped he contrived to describe briefly his chance meeting with the Duke, on the day of the latter’s arrival in England, at the Hotel Cecil, and with an effort of memory he recalled the name of the man—Clinton Ziegler—whom the Duke had been to see. "I dare say it’s not important, but it just occurred to me that I had better mention it while there was an opportunity," he concluded, stealing a sidelong glance at his uncle’s face, which, as usual, was illegible. But a movement of the General’s well-gloved right hand in the direction of his left shirt-cuff, coupled with the gleam of a gold pencil-case, suggested that the name of Mr. Clinton Ziegler had been deemed worthy of record. They were admitted to the ducal residence by Prince, whose dignity barely enabled him to stifle the inward curiosity with which he was devoured. In common with the other servants, he had not been told of the midnight alarm, and his orders to put the house practically into a state of siege had naturally mystified him. The damage to the bedroom door was not visible except under close examination, and Sybil having swept up the sawdust, none of the household had yet discovered it. "No one has called, sir, except one or two of the usuals to the tradesmen’s entrance, and they were kept outside," the butler remarked as he relieved the two gentlemen of their hats and canes. At Forsyth’s request they were shown into the smoking-room—a cozy den, with only one window overlooking Piccadilly, to which the General immediately walked. His gaze roved over the crowded thoroughfare, comprehending pedestrians and passing vehicles in one swift scrutiny, and, apparently satisfied, he turned away just as Sybil entered, looking as fresh and sprightly as though she had slept the clock round. The General greeted her in the curt manner he affected to all women impartially, but an extra pressure of her hand may have had reference to her vigilant gallantry. "His Grace is sulking," she said, with a smile. "At least, he refuses to leave his room until he has seen you, General Sadgrove. I tapped at his door and told him you were here, but he said that if you want to see him you had better go upstairs. Very rude of him, isn’t it?" "Very sensible," replied the General. "I would prefer to see him alone, if you will be so good as to escort me, Miss Hanbury. Alec," he added, "while I am gone just sit on this ottoman behind the window-curtain and keep your eye on that apple-woman under the railings of the Green Park. When I come back, be prepared to tell me exactly what she has done and how many customers she has had."