"I see you disbelieve still," said Beatrice with a calm disdain. "I had no idea men could be so stupid. I suppose there is nothing for it but to wake Mrs. Hedderwick and ask her." The churchwarden sat down suddenly, as if his knees had given way. "Wake Mrs. Hedderwick!" he repeated in a ghastly voice: "wake my wife! Oh, no! It is impossible--quite out of the question!" "Not at all. She will know whether any one has called here, and in justice to my veracity you must ask her. I insist! Remember our freedom is at stake." Mr. Hedderwick rose, pale but determined. "I beg your pardon," he said politely. "Will you please go at once? I have not the least intention of prosecuting, and I swear that I believe your story. Only will you _please_ go at once?" Lionel chuckled, amused and grateful. "This is hardly fair, sir," he said. "You forget that we want information as to where those papers may have gone. If your wife could tell us whether any one has called and what his or her appearance----" "No, no!" quavered the unhappy Robert. "I can not consent! You must find out elsewhere. I can not have my wife roused! I--I would not have her here for a thousand pounds!" "Indeed, Robert!" said a deep voice from the door. The churchwarden leaped round in a trice. He saw his wife, in the majesty of a dressing-gown, a poker in her right hand, standing in the doorway. His bowels turned to water. "Alicia!" he groaned. "Yes," she said with a pleasurable severity. "What does this mean?" Her eye roved austerely and there was a dead silence. Robert was temporarily annihilated, Beatrice serenely impassive, Lionel amusedly dividing his attention between the two ladies. Presently Mrs. Hedderwick's brow cleared, as if a light had dawned upon her. She began to speak again in a voice that was almost cheerful. "I see!" she said: "it is a new idea, Robert. I suppose these are some of your friends, and this is a kind of breakfast party. I am very sorry that you did not give me earlier warning, or I would have had the dining-room ready. My husband," she said, turning confidentially to Beatrice, "is a man, and naturally does not realize that bacon can not be fried in a moment, and that eggs will not cook themselves. Toast, again, needs a little care; and coffee I always say is worthless unless one looks after it one's self." "Alicia!" interposed the miserable Robert, "I do wish you'd be reasonable. For heaven's sake----" "Kindly do not swear, Robert," said his wife, turning ferociously on him. "If I have made a mistake, I am sure it was but natural. If this is not a breakfast-party, pray what is it? A man of your age would not indulge in _suppers_"--she gave the word an emphasis that insinuated Cremorne--"so what can I think? I hear an unusual noise--I come down-stairs and find my husband hobnobbing with a strange gentleman and his ... friend ... whom I _have_ met, but----" Lionel rose, but Beatrice was wiser and forestalled him.