Lady Dashwood sighed bitterly. She was getting used to vulgar scenes like this. And yet there was hope that before long she would be freed from the bloodsucker. She watched him now as he sat sprawling in his chair, flicking the ashes of his cigarette into a priceless Sevres dessert dish. How could she ever have taken him for her grandson, she wondered? Why had she been so weak and feeble? A servant entered at the same moment with an intimation to the effect that somebody desired to see Mr. Dashwood. The gentleman was waiting in the dining-room. A dull flush of annoyance came over Dashwood's face. "Some meddling creditor," he muttered. "A London tradesman, who has managed to get my address from somewhere. Goodbye to all peace if once my retreat has got known. Tell the man to call again, Charles. I can't see him." "Begging your pardon, sir," the footman said respectfully, "it is not a tradesman, and he said he must see you on the most important business. The gentleman is Inspector Drake, the head constable from Longtown." Dashwood's teeth clicked together; his face turned to a dull ashen hue. He had been suddenly stricken by some mortal fear; he could not disguise the fact from Lady Dashwood. Her heart sank within her as she glanced fearfully at the white set face on the other side of the table. She wondered what new disgrace was here. "I--I'll come in a minute," Dashwood muttered thickly. "This room is so hot that it makes one feel quite faint. Charles, give me a glass of brandy from the sideboard. A large glass without water. Ah!" The white face resumed a little of its colour and the teeth ceased to chatter as the potent spirit got in its work. With an uneasy swagger, Dashwood crossed over to the door, but his heart was beating thick and fast and there was a great lump in his throat that he could not quite succeed in swallowing. But the inspector of police knew nothing of this as he responded curtly enough to Dashwood's insolent salutation. "And what can I do for you?" the latter asked. "This is a very inconvenient hour for me." "Very sorry for that, sir," the official said coolly. "But my duty is plain. I should like to have a few words with you as to the fire at Dashwood Hall." A strange sense of relief, almost of exultation, came over the listener. He could breathe more freely now; all his swagger came back to him. The visit of the officer had nothing to do with any episode out of a dark and dubious past. "What can I tell you about that?" he asked. "I know nothing of it."