"Yes," I said peremptorily, "that'll do. Take me to her at once. Don't delay in sending up word. There's not an instant to lose. Take me to her straight." Somewhat doubtfully, but scarcely liking to disobey one who spoke with so confident an air, the man led the way to a door at the end of the hall, and was just about to knock when it opened, and I saw standing before me none other than my Lady of the Lake. "Forgive this intrusion," I said, "but I bring you news of your father." "I am relieved to hear it," she answered cordially, but quite coolly. "It is very strange that he should neither have returned last night nor sent a message. You are sure that he is safe and well?" For the moment I was so taken aback that I faltered. Was I, then, too late? Had the Dumpling already carried out his villainous purpose? Then, pulling myself together, I answered, cheerfully: "Yes, he is safe and well--make yourself quite easy about that; and I know with whom he is staying. I will tell you all about it, if you will allow me." "Please come in," she said. CHAPTER XI. "WHAT'S YOUR LITTLE GAME?" Then she recognised me. Except for the fact that her face suddenly flamed and then as suddenly hardened, her breeding stood her in good stead, and with cold, clear eyes, which looked as indifferently into mine as if I had been a stranger calling to solicit a subscription to some charity, she pointed me to a chair. "You bring me news of my father?" she inquired, with a composure which was possibly assumed for my benefit, or, rather, for my discomfiture. "That is why I am here," I answered, bowing gravely, and in my turn assuming an indifference which I strove to make as studied as her own. "He is safe and well," I went on. "Of that let me assure you positively. He is detained only upon a matter of business, and but for the fact that other people, as well as himself, are concerned in it, he could return, if he chose, this very night." This much I said to allay her anxiety. That it was a diplomatic rather than an exact statement of the facts, I do not deny, but though I would unhesitatingly have told a lie to spare her, I was at least within the truth in saying that the moment of Mr. Carleton's return lay entirely within his own choice, since, once he had consented to pay the ransom demanded by the Dumpling--and the money, as well as the safety of his kidnappers, was secured--Mr. Carleton would in all probability be set at liberty, and could then return, as I had said. Into the question whether he would or would not consent thus to be bled of a large sum of money, I had no intention of entering. The business before me was to break the bad news as gently and as gradually as possible; and in breaking bad news it does not always do to blurt out the undiluted truth.