Mr. Haken, betrayed by his chuckle, and wheeled suddenly, and spilt the wine he was about to sip. To his nephew's surprise he was trembling, and his stammering voice betrayed his agitation. "Who--who are you?" Prelice whispered his name. "You needn't be alarmed," he added; "I won't tell Aunt Sophia that you are accepting her enemy's hospitality." Haken drank off his wine in one deep gulp, and set down the glass, with his hands still shaking. "I would rather you did not tell her," he said in a low tone. "Sophia dislikes Mrs. Rover, and would be annoyed if she knew that I was here. I have come on business." "What! Business at a ball? Invent a more credible story, uncle." "It is true," insisted Haken, becoming more composed. "I have to see a political man from the Continent about a loan. He doesn't want it to be known that I am meeting him, so we thought that this would be the best place to ensure secrecy. Not a word of this, Prelice." "Of course not," replied the young man, puzzled to know why Haken should take the trouble to explain; "but don't mention my name. I also wish to be unknown." "What are you doing here?" asked Haken abruptly. "I came to the ball, and also I have to see Ned Shepworth, who----" "Shepworth," gasped Haken, backing nervously. "Oh yes! friend of our charming hostess; friend of mine also. Is he here?" "No. He would not come to a ball when his promised wife is in prison." "Of course not; very creditable of him, to be sure," muttered Haken, and took another glass of wine with a whispered apology. "I am teetotal as a rule, you know; but Society always tries my nerves, and I need sustenance. I wish the man I have to meet here had chosen my office in the city. But it wouldn't have done--it wouldn't have done. There would be trouble were it known that he was in London. What is the time, Prelice?" "Don't mention my name or I'll mention yours," said Prelice impatiently, and drew out his watch. "It is eleven o'clock." Haken nodded. "I must meet my man. Eleven-fifteen is the time. As to mentioning my name, what does that matter? I came here without my mask. Never thought of putting it on." Prelice nodded in his turn. "I saw you when Rover received you." "Then hold your tongue--hold your tongue. Not a word to Sophia, mind." "Not a word," Prelice promised gravely; and Mr. Haken, drawing a long breath--it would seem to be of relief--at having extracted the promise, vanished into the many-hued crowd with his usual chuckle. While the millionaire gave vent to that chuckle there did not seem to be much chance of his concealing his identity.