“It all rests upon this, Raymond. At the moment when you said, ‘That is the Grand Duke John,’ you may recall that I was about to recount to you an exploit of my ancestor, Patrick? This exploit, Raymond, was performed before La Rochelle, and involved three of the enemy, a dozen bottles of wine, and a game pie! The Grand Duke is the enemy in this case, my boy. You must be aware that he is one of a group whose activities are inimical to our interests in the Baltic. I saw my way clearly. I stepped up and whispered to him, ‘They are following you, Duke! We will slip into the car, unperceived amid the traffic, and explain more fully. There must be no delay here!’” (I inhaled noisily.) “This was a bow at venture, Raymond. The odds against my scoring were about ten thousand to one. But—as occurred to a certain Desmond O’Hagan on a somewhat similar occasion—I scored! Given such premises, who after that could err? Although I will confess that I overstepped the mark once; but, thanks to the darkness of the car, and the corresponding darkness prevailing in the Grand Ducal mind, I recovered! I may add, Raymond, that our present position, though one of absorbing interest, is delicate to a degree!” “O’Hagan!” I broke in hotly, “this is beyond belief! Had I known, had I dreamed, of the false position in which we were placed——” I ceased. Language failed me again. Then: “O’Hagan!” I cried, “what have you done it for?” “Primarily,” he answered, “for supper! After supper I shall offer the Grand Duke any satisfaction which he may desire. Secondarily, here _is_ the Grand Duke!” Even as he spoke my mind was busy; and, as I now perceived with consternation, O’Hagan had indeed been “pumping” the Grand Duke—“pumping” him with the cleverness of a very accomplished K.C. I was amazed; amazed that the Siresian should have fallen so easy a victim—that even Bernard O’Hagan should have had the stark effrontery to practise such a deception. “If you will excuse me for a few moments more,” said the Grand Duke, “I will rejoin you for supper.” With a cold bow, he left us again. “O’Hagan!” I burst out—— O’Hagan coughed, and raised his monocle to his eye. “—I will not, cannot stay!——” O’Hagan coughed again, more urgently, and, across my left shoulder, seemed to focus something through the pebble. “—The supper would choke me!” O’Hagan coughed a third time, with bronchial violence, bowed low—as a Leicester before an Elizabeth—and surreptitiously kicked me shrewdly upon the shin. I spun around sharply. I followed the direction of my friend’s enraptured gaze. And my eyes rested upon one of the loveliest women I have ever seen! ————— III. THE MAID AND THE RING.