"Horrex?" Master Herbert straightened himself up. "Do I understand you to say, sir, that your name is Horrex? Then allow me to tell you, Horrex, that you are no gentleman. You hear?" He spoke with anxious lucidity, leaning forward and tapping the butler on the knee. "No gentleman." "No, sir," assented Horrex. "That being the case, we'll say no more about it. I decline to argue with you. If you're waking, call me early--there's many a black, black eye, Horrex, but none so black as mine. Call me at eleven-fifteen, bringing with you this gentleman's blood in a bottle. Goo'-night, go to bye-bye. . . ." By the fleeting light of a street-lamp I saw his head drop forward, and a minute later he was gently snoring. It was agreed that on reaching home Master Herbert must be smuggled into the basement of No. 402 and put to rest on Horrex's own bed; also that, to avoid the line of carriages waiting in the Cromwell Road for the departing guests, the cab should take us round to the gardens at the back. I carried on my chain a key which would admit us to these and unlock the small gate between them and the kitchens. This plan of action so delighted Horrex that for a moment I feared he was going to clasp my hands. "If it wasn't irreverent, sir, I could almost say you had dropped on me from heaven!" "You may alter your opinion," said I grimly, "before I've done dropping." At the garden entrance we paid and dismissed the cab. I took Master Herbert's shoulders and Horrex his heels, and between us we carried his limp body across the turf--a procession so suggestive of dark and secret tragedy that I blessed our luck for protecting us from the casual intrusive policeman. Our entrance by the kitchen passage, however, was not so fortunate. Stealthily as we trod, our footsteps reached the ears in the servants' hall, and we were met by William and a small but compact body of female servants urging him to armed resistance. A kitchen-maid fainted away as soon as we were recognised, and the strain of terror relaxed. I saw at once that Master Herbert's condition caused them no surprise. We carried him to the servants' hall and laid him in an armchair, to rest our arms, while the motherly cook lifted his unconscious head to lay a pillow beneath it. As she did so, a bell jangled furiously on the wall above. "Good Lord!" Horrex turned a scared face up at it. "The library!" "What's the matter in the library?" But he was gone: to reappear, a minute later, with a face whiter than ever. "The mistress wants you at on'st, sir, if you'll follow me. William, run out and see if you can raise another cab--four-wheeler." "What, at this time of night?" answered William. "Get along with you!" "Do your best, lad." Mr. Horrex appealed gently but with pathetic dignity. "If there's miracles indoors there may be miracles outside. This way, sir!" He led me to the library-door, knocked softly, opened it, and stood aside for me to enter.