The young duke knew where to find the cedar suite--a sumptuous set of apartments finished and fitted up in the costly and fragrant wood which gave them their name. He found his servant waiting in the dressing-room. His grace's valet was no fine gentleman from Paris, as full of accomplishments as of vices; but a simple and honest young man from the estate. The extra gravity which young James Kerr put into his manner of waiting, alone testified of the reverential sympathy he felt for his beloved master. The duke threw off the travelling coat that he had assumed for his journey and had worn up to this moment; and he took the wadded silk dressing gown, handed him by his valet, and having put it on, he dropped into an easy resting-chair, and ordered Kerr to lower the gas and then leave the room for the night. The young Duke of Hereward did not retire to bed that night. As soon as he found himself alone in the half-darkened rooms, he arose from his chair and began to walk restlessly up and down the floor, relieving the pent-up anguish of his bosom by such deep groans as had required all his self-control to suppress while he was in the presence of others. Thus walking and groaning in great agony of mind, he passed the few remaining dark hours of the morning. At daylight he sank exhausted into his easy-chair. But even then he neither "slumbered nor slept," but passed the time in waiting and longing for the rising sun, that he might go out and renew his search for his lost bride. The sun had scarcely risen when he rang for his valet. The young man appeared promptly. The duke made a hasty toilet, and then called his servant to attend him down stairs. None of the household were yet astir. But, by the direction of the duke, Kerr unlocked, unbolted and unbarred the street door to let his master out. "Close and secure the house after me, James, for it will be hours yet before the household will be up," said the duke, as he passed out. It was a clear October day for London. The sun was not more than twenty minutes high, and it shone redly and dully through a morning fog. The streets were still deserted, except by milkmen, bakers, costermongers, and other "early birds." He walked rapidly to the Church Court police station. Detective Setter was not there. But the Duke left word for him to call at Elmthorpe as soon as he should return. He left the police station and went on toward Elmthrope. But he did not enter the house. He could not rest. He walked up and down the sidewalk in front of the iron railings until he thought Lady Belgrade might have risen. Then he went up the steps and rang the bell. The hall porter opened the door and admitted him. "Has Lady Belgrade come down yet?" was his first question. "My lady has, your grace. My lady is waiting breakfast for your grace," respectfully answered the footman.