“At the time when I expected to operate the gold field, which you know of, my lord, I chartered a steamer, named the _Rajah_, at Southampton.” “Oh, the _Rajah!_” interrupted his lordship, sitting up, a gleam of intelligent comprehension animating his face. “The _Rajah_ was what you were trying to say? I thought you were speaking of a Jolly Roger. Roger was the word that came over to me, and ‘Jolly Roger’ means the flag of a pirate ship, or something pertaining to piracy, so I, recognizing your voice, thinks to myself: ‘What, in the name of Moses and the Prophets, can a respectable city personage mean by speaking of the Jolly Roger, as if he were a captain of buccaneers.’ Oh, yes, the _Rajah!_ _Now_ I understand. Proceed, Mr. Schwartzbrod.” The personage seemed to turn a trifle more sallow than usual as the other went on enthusiastically talking of pirate ships and buccaneers, but he surmised that the young nobleman meant nothing in particular, as he sank back once more in his easy-chair, and again half closed his eyes, blowing the smoke of his cigar airily aloft. Presently, moistening his lips, Conrad Schwartzbrod found voice, convinced that the other’s allusion to marine pillage was a mere coincidence, and not a covert reference to Frowningshield and his merry men, or to the mission of the _Rajah_ herself. “I was about to say, my lord, that I had chartered the _Rajah_ from a firm of shipping people in Southampton, intending to use her in the development of the mineral property in West Africa. That property having passed from the hands of myself and my associates into yours, my lord, I determined to employ the _Rajah_ in the South American cattle trade, as we own an extensive tract of territory in the Argentine, the interests of which we are endeavoring to forward with the ultimate object of floating a company.” Again the prospective company promoter moistened his lips when they had safely delivered this interesting piece of fiction. “So the _Rajah_ has gone to the Argentine Republic, has she?” said Stranleigh. “Yes, my lord.” “Filled with dynamite and mining machinery, eh? Surely a remarkable cargo for a herdsman to transport, Mr. Schwartzbrod?” “Well, you see, my lord, the dynamite and machinery was on our hands, and as there are many mines in South America, we thought we could sell the cargo there to better advantage than in Southampton.” “Of course I don’t in the least doubt, Mr. Schwartzbrod, that you own large ranches in South America, but I strongly suspect----” He paused, and opened his eyes to half width, looking quizzically at his _vis-à-vis_. “You strongly suspect what, my lord?” muttered Schwartzbrod. “I suspect that you own a mine in South America that you are keeping very quiet about.” “Well, my lord,” confessed Schwartzbrod, with apparent diffidence, “it is rarely wise to speak of these things prematurely.”