“I didn’t forget my cue,” said Mornice pathetically. “Really and truly, I didn’t—and it wasn’t my fault I fell down.” Mr. Dawson made an impatient gesture with his head. “Mr. Luke,” he said. Kenneth Luke stepped out of the shadows, “you play the scene together—what have you to say?” “Well. I certainly noticed Miss June seemed rather all over the place, and——” “One minute,” said Eliphalet, steering into the middle of the group. Mr. Dawson turned. “We are rather busy,” he began. “And so am I,” said Eliphalet, “and my business won’t wait.” Then, addressing Kenneth Luke, “Now, you—put up your hands.” “What do you mean?” “Put them up. I’m going to give you a thrashing. Do you understand that?” “No, I don’t,” replied Kenneth insolently. “And what the devil are you interfering for?” “For the pleasure of doing that,” said Eliphalet, and hit him with surprising vigour on the end of the nose. “Damn!” roared the youngster, and drew back his arm with intention of countering. But somehow it entangled in his cloak and before he had freed it, Eliphalet had pranced in and rained upon him a veritable tornado of blows. More by luck than judgment one of them took Kenneth on the point of the jaw, and put him to sleep behind a curtain of falling stars. “I say! whatever is all this about?” exclaimed Mr. Dawson. “A—piece of—just retribution and N-nemesis. Tell him, my dear—I—I’m——” Then very gracefully, as he was graceful in all things, Eliphalet Cardomay tottered and collapsed across the body of his prostrate foe. It is not a wise proceeding for a man on the wrong side of sixty to engage in a rough-and-tumble. The results are apt to produce cardiac disturbances. The doctor, who was called in, said afterwards there was a time when he doubted whether Mr. Cardomay’s heart was equal to the task of adjusting itself. Certainly the old actor was in a sorry way when he was placed in Mr. Deansgate’s private brougham and driven off to Camden Town under the guardianship of a very anxious Mornice. She had explained how the circumstances came about, and Mr. Deansgate sent a polite request to Kenneth Luke to call at his office before leaving. The result of this interview was significantly betrayed by the presence of Kenneth Luke’s “card” in the following Thursday’s issue of the _Daily Telegraph_, with the words “At Liberty” following his name. Mornice and the landlady put Eliphalet to bed and tucked him in as though he were a child. He complained of being thirsty and very tired, and hardly seemed aware of his surroundings. “I shan’t leave him to-night,” whispered Mornice. “Perhaps you’d give me a comfy chair, Ma dear, then I can watch restfully.”