Royson found a queer conclave awaiting him. Irene, distressed by the injustice of her grandfather's suspicion that she was sharing in a conspiracy of silence, had retired to a corner of the tent, and wore an air of indifference which she certainly did not feel. Mrs. Haxton, pallid, striving desperately to regain her self-possession, draped herself artistically in a comfortable camp chair. Von Kerber, scowling and depressed, stood near the entrance, and Mr. Fenshawe was seated in the center of the tent. The red light of the declining sun was full on his face, and Dick fancied that he had aged suddenly. Nor was this to be wondered at. No enthusiast, not even a wealthy one, likes to have his hopes of realizing a great achievement dashed to the ground, nor is it altogether gratifying that a woman who has won one's high esteem should be associated with a piece of contemptible trickery. Mr. Fenshawe's first question told Dick that a serious dispute was toward. "It has been stated," said Mr. Fenshawe, looking at him in a curiously critical way, "that a valuable document was stolen from Baron von Kerber at Marseilles--what do you know about it?" Dick, hourly expecting a strenuous turn to the placid marching and camping of the past few weeks, was not taken unaware. He had mapped out a clear line, and meant to follow it. "I regret to say that I cannot answer you, Mr. Fenshawe," said he, meeting the older man's searching glance unflinchingly. "Why not?" "Because I gave an undertaking to that effect to Baron von Kerber." "But I am your employer, not he." "No, sir. That is not my view of the contract I signed." "Have you a copy of that contract'?" "Yes." "Will you show it to me?" "That is unnecessary," broke in von Kerber, with a savage impatience of the quasi-judicial inquiry which Mr. Fenshawe was evidently bent on conducting. "I give Mr. Royson full permission to answer any question you may put to him." "You do, eh? You give permission? Do you pay his salary?" demanded the millionaire indignantly. "Yes, on your behalf. Surely the arrangement between us cannot be disputed. I was to make all arrangements, yes?" "As my paid agent, you should add." Mrs. Haxton suddenly sat forward in her chair. "We had a tacit agreement for an equal division of the spoil," she interposed, with an acidity that Mr. Fenshawe probably found in marked contrast with her usual honeyed speech. "That agreement would have been kept by me," said Fenshawe. "You may not be aware that Baron von Kerber pleaded poverty, and I promised to remunerate him for his services, whether we won or lost. I have no doubt he has my letter, duly stamped at Somerset House, carefully packed away with Mr. Royson's agreement."