"He is under a certificate," said he. "The Commissioners call at Hoover's, inspect the books, find that Lord Rochester has been there, find him gone, find you have taken him away. They will simply call upon you to produce him." "How about my yacht?" asked the other. "A long sea voyage for his health?" "Ah," said Simms, "that's better, but voyages come to an end." "How about my villa at Naples? Properly looked after there he will be safe enough." "Of course," said Simms, "that will mean he will always have to be there--always." "Of course, always. D'you think now I have got him in safety I will let him out?" Simms sighed. The business was drifting into very dangerous waters. He knew for a matter of fact and also by intuition that Jones was Jones and that Rochester was dead and his unfortunate position was like this: 1. If Jones escaped from Hoover's unsoothed and furious he might find his way to the American Consul or, _horror!_ to some newspaper office. Then the band would begin to play. 2. If Jones were transferred on board the Duke's yacht and sequestrated, the matter at once became _criminal_, and the prospect of long years of mental distress and dread lest the agile Jones should break free stood before him like a nightmare. 3. It was impossible to make the Duke believe that Jones was Jones and that Rochester was dead. The only thing to be done was to release Jones, soothe him, bribe him and implore of him to get back to America as quick as possible. This being clear before the mind of Simms, he at once proceeded to act. "It is not so much the question of your letting him out," he said, "as of his escaping. And now I must say this. My professional reputation is at stake and I must ask you to come with me to Curzon Street and put the whole matter before the family. I wish to have a full consultation." The Duke demurred for a moment. Then he agreed and the two men left the club. At Curzon Street they found the Dowager Countess and Venetia Birdbrook about to retire for the night. Teresa, Countess of Rochester, had already retired, and, though invited to the conference, refused to leave her room. Then, in the drawing-room with closed doors, Simms, relying on the intelligence of the women as a support, began, for the second time, his tale. He convinced the women, and by one o'clock in the morning, still standing by his guns after the fashion of the defenders of Bundlecund, the Duke had to confess that he had no more ammunition. Surrendered in fact. "But what is to be done?" asked the distracted mother of the defunct. "What will this terrible man do if we release him?" "Do," shouted the Duke. "Do--why the impostor may well ask what will we do to him." "We can do nothing," said Venetia. "How can we? How can we expose all this before the servants--and the public? It is all entirely Teresa's fault. If she had treated Arthur properly none of this would ever have happened. She laughed and made light of his wickedness, she--"