Latterly there had been an entire absence of the excursions and alarums which had marked the earlier days of the house-party. General Sadgrove and Alec Forsyth had relaxed none of their vigilance, and Azimoolah still ranged the glades of the park, but no more unauthorized artists had put in an appearance, nor had any member of the party suffered from headache, entailing the strange cure of a midnight journey. On this eventful morning it so happened that the ladies were all assembled in the breakfast-room before any of the gentlemen were down. Sybil, presiding at the tea and coffee equipage, was evincing deep interest in Mrs. Talmage Eglinton’s narrative of her purchases in London the day before; Mrs. Sherman was wondering to Mrs. Sadgrove whether "Leonidas" would come straight to Prior’s Tarrant, or insist on depositing the bonds in the Bank of England first; and Leonie was looking dreamily through the open windows across the park—she was often dreaming nowadays; so was the Duke. Presently General Sadgrove strode in and took his seat, making no apology, because breakfast was a come-as-you-please meal, and no one was expected to be punctual. But when he had said good-morning all round he glanced uneasily at the vacant places of Beaumanoir and Forsyth. The two young men were usually up and about before anyone. Mrs. Talmage Eglinton had broken off in the middle of describing a new and ravishing hat to Sybil in order to smile a welcome to the grim old warrior. She was now following the direction of his glance, and commented on it in sprightly fashion. "The naughty Duke and the naughty Mr. Forsyth!" she purred. "I believe you men keep most frightfully late hours in this house, General. What is it that you do—play cards or gamble with dominoes?" "No, it’s chess," jerked out the General, regarding her impassively. "Mate to the King and the Black Queen to move. All that sort of thing, don’t you know." The American widow trilled out a silvery laugh, and the veteran attacked his breakfast. But, looking singularly old this morning, he seemed to have but little appetite, and ate slowly, frowning at the two empty places; and when Alec Forsyth came in alone, and white as a sheet, he was on his legs in a moment. "Where is the Duke?" the General flung at his nephew. "I don’t know; he’s not in his room, and I can’t find him anywhere in the nearer gardens," was the reply. "I should like to speak to you for a moment," Forsyth added, with a significant glance at the ladies, who had so far failed to grasp that there was anything serious in a Duke being late for breakfast in his own house. It needed no second request to bring the General out into the hall. "Now tell me shortly," said the old man as soon as they were alone together.