Herriard could scarcely feel aggrieved after that. Nevertheless two circumstances brought an uncomfortable shadow of doubt to his mind. One was the unusual symptoms of pain, of which he had never heard Gastineau complain before; the other was that, instead of, as he expected, finding his friend ill and exhausted from the afternoon’s attack, he seemed brighter and less helpless than usual. Still, Herriard told himself, he knew little of medical science, had no experience in the strange turns disease would take, and his doubts therefore might be groundless. “Well, what news?” Gastineau asked. “Rather good news,” Herriard answered. “I have got a provisional retainer from Bowyers for a big case.” “What is that?” Gastineau enquired alertly. “Nothing less than this Vaux House affair. I’m in luck. That will be a sensational case, if you like.” “I should think so,” Gastineau replied, a peculiar gleam in his eyes contradicting the almost languid interest in his manner. “What is the case? Is the Duke bringing an action?” “The Duke? No. Countess Alexia of Rohnburg is suing the _Daily Comet_ for libel.” “Ah! Yes; I anticipated that. The position has been forced upon her. The innuendoes were unmistakable. It is an ugly position for her, though.” “Particularly, if, as Bowyer assures me, she is absolutely innocent in the matter.” “So? He says that. And believes it?” “Certainly, from his manner. The Countess is the victim, it appears, of a suspicion, coloured, unfortunately, by unlucky coincidences.” “H’m! She is bound to make an effort to put herself right, even by challenging the _Daily Comet_ to a legal duel, poor woman,” Gastineau commented thoughtfully, as he seemed to weigh the Countess’s chances in the professional balance. “You are, of course, briefed for her?” “Yes; it is a fine opportunity for us--eh?” “You could not wish for a better. You know the Countess?” “I have met her and her brother, but don’t know much of them. They seemed very much liked and quite popular--but, of course, Gastineau, you must have known them. They have been over here a good many years now.” The grey eyes from the couch shot a cross-examiner’s glance at Herriard; then reassumed their former expression of quietly alert interest. “Oh, yes,” Gastineau answered, “I knew something of them in the old days in my earlier state of existence. It all seems so long ago, my former acquaintances are like the figures in a dream. Yes,” he continued reminiscently; “I recollect the Countess, a handsome, fair girl with a beautiful voice, and more character in her than one usually associates with those of her complexion. And the brother? Yes; more like an Englishman than a foreigner, with a taste for sport, natural rather than acquired; a man whom one would trust to play the game. Well, let’s hope he’ll win it this time. We will do our best, eh, Geof?” “I hope we shall,” Herriard answered heartily, adding, “Your help will be very necessary here.”