"A pardonable interposition," murmured Mr. Rake noisily. "It is ’Pompey’ in the text—you see how admirably it fits the Duke: "And do you now strew flowers In his (the Duke’s) way? Who comes in triumph over Pompey’s (that’s you) blood?" "I—will—not—be—referred—to—as—Pompey," said Sir Harry deliberately and slowly, and thumped the table at each word, "I am not going to give that brute a nickname to hang round my neck." "And look here, Rake," broke in Hal impatiently, "what the devil’s the good of you thinking that any muck you write is likely to shift this Duke fellow. I’ll bet if it comes to writing he could write your head off. An’ there’s nothing funny about the Duke fellow coming in triumph over the governor’s blood. Its a beastly tactless thing to say." Mr. Rake looked at him unfavourably. "Mr. Hal," he said, in his best editorial manner, "you must allow a journalist and a gentleman——" "Journalist my grandmother," said Hal, without reverence, "this is a council of war—don’t let us raise any debatable question. We’ve got to think out a way of making this Duke pack up his traps. It doesn’t matter what sort of way, so long as it’s an effective way. The governor doesn’t want him there, and I don’t want him—he’s taken a low down advantage of me an’ probably messed up my whole life——" He tangented abruptly (the accent on the penultimate.) "Now whilst you two chaps have been arguing," Hal went on, "I’ve thought out a dozen schemes. We might cut off his water——" "The lore," said Mr. Smith becoming cheerful as the discussion took a turn into his province, "the lore doesn’t allow anybody but the water-rates to turn——" "Or the gas," said Hal, silencing the law-abiding Smith with a gesture; "we could cut the gas off—we can’t get him on the rent question because——" Mr. Smith’s great opportunity came. "The rent question does him," he said wisely cutting out all preamble, "because he ain’t paid his rent, an’ won’t pay his rent, and what’s more, he’ll see you (accordin’ to the American gent who lives with him) to the—I forget the name of the place—before he pays you." Sir Harry was dumb with astonishment. "Here’s the letter," said Mr. Smith tremulous with importance, "from the Duke himself." He read— "DEAR SIR,— "On my return from America I found a notice to quit served on behalf of your employer. My lease being well defined, I regard the service of such a notice as constituting a breach of contract, and must respectfully decline to pay any further rental for the premises I now occupy, until my position in regard to this property is determined. "Yours truly, "DE MONTVILLIER." "Outrageous!" blazed the knight. "Monstrous!" echoed the faithful Rake. "What a rotten piece of cheek!" said Hal. Mr. Smith wagged a fat forefinger.