Sir Roland tugged at his cravat. “To tell you the truth—didn’t come on that score,” he confessed. “Felt sure you would understand how it was.”
“Quite right,” said the Earl, opening his snuff-box. “I did understand.”
Sir Roland helped himself to a pinch and sniffed it up one nostril. “Very good blend. I always have my own put up by my man in the Haymarket. Always use the same, you know. Plain Spanish.”
“Ah, indeed?” said the Earl. “This is blended for me by Jacobs, in the Strand.”
Sir Roland perceived that he was being led into a discussion that had nothing whatsoever to do with his mission, and firmly abandoned it. “Reason I called,” he said, “was quite different. Hoping very much you will join a little card-party—my house—this evening.”
“Why, this is very kind of you,” said Rule, with the faintest inflexion of surprise in his pleasant voice.
This was not lost on Sir Roland, who, thrust out by the Viscount to “draw off” his lordship, had protested feebly: “Deuce take it, Pel, I hardly know the man! Years older than I am! Can’t ask him to my house like that!” He sought once more to loosen his cravat, and said: “Aware—devilish short notice—trust you’ll forgive—very difficult to find a fourth. Last moment, you understand. Game of whisk.”
“Nothing,” said the Earl, “would please me more than to be able to oblige you, my dear Pommeroy. Unfortunately, however—”
Sir Roland threw up his hand. “Now don’t say you cannot come! Pray do not! Can’t play whisk with only three people, my lord. Most awkward situation!”
“I am sure it must be,” agreed his lordship sympathetically. “And I expect you have tried everyone else.”
“Oh, everyone!” said Sir Roland. “Can’t find a fourth at all. Do beg of your lordship not to fail me!”
“I am extremely sorry,” said the Earl, shaking his head. “But I fear I must decline your—er—very flattering invitation. You see, I have promised to join a party at Vauxhall Gardens with my wife.”
“Feel sure her ladyship would excuse you—almost bound to rain—very dull evening!” said Sir Roland feverishly. “Apprehend it is Pel’s party—not your taste at all, sir. Very queer people, Pel’s friends. Wouldn’t like them, I assure you.”
The Earl’s lips twitched. “You quite decide me, my dear Pommeroy. If they are like that I think I would rather be at her ladyship’s side.”
“Oh, they are not!” said Sir Roland hastily. “Oh, dear me, no, nothing of that sort! Very respectable people, but dull, you know—a set of company you would not like. Much better play whisk at my house.”
“Do you really think so?” The Earl appeared to meditate. “I am of course, very fond of whisk.”
Sir Roland breathed a sigh of relief. “Knew I could count on you! Beg you will dine first—five o’clock.”
“Who are your other guests?” inquired his lordship.
“Well, to tell you the truth—not quite sure yet,” said Sir Roland confidentially. “Bound to find someone glad of a game. Have it all fixed by five o’clock.”
“You tempt me very much,” said the Earl. “And yet—no I fear I must not yield. Some other evening, perhaps. You’ll take a glass of madeira with me before you go?”
The crestfallen Sir Roland shook his head. “Thank you, no—must get back to—that is to say, must get to Boodle’s. Might find a fourth there, you understand. No chance of persuading your lordship?”
“I regret infinitely, but none,” Rule answered. “I must—I positively must accompany my wife.”
Sir Roland went sadly back to Pall Mall, where he found the Viscount kicking his heels impatiently. “No good, Pel,” he said. “Did what I could—no moving him.”
“The devil fly away with the fellow!” said the Viscount wrathfully. “What in thunder ails him? Here we have the whole affair planned out as snug as you please, and he must needs ruin all by taking it into his head to join my party! Damme, I won’t have him in my party!”
Sir Roland rubbed his chin thoughtfully with the knob of his cane. “Trouble is, Pel, you haven’t got a party,” he said.
The Viscount, who had cast himself into a chair, said irritably: “What the hell does that matter?”
“Does matter,” insisted Sir Roland. “Here’s Rule joining you tonight, and I told him he wouldn’t like the party—said they were queer people—hoping to put him off, you know—and if you don’t arrange a party—well, you see what I mean, Pel?”
“Well, if that don’t beat all!” said the Viscount indignantly. “It ain’t enough for me to waste the whole day planning this damned affair, I have to get a party together as well just to fall in with your silly tale! Burn it we don’t want a party! Where am I to find a lot of queer people? Tell me that!”
“Meant it for the best, Pel,” said Sir Roland placatingly. “Meant it for the best! Must be any number of queer people in town—know there are—Club’s full of them.”
“But they ain’t friends of mine!” replied the Viscount. “You can’t go round the club asking a lot of queer- looking strangers to come to Vauxhall with you. Besides, what should we do with them when we got ’em there?”
“Give them supper,” said Sir Roland. “While they have supper we slip off—get the brooch—come back—ten to one no one notices.”
“Well, I won’t do it!” said the Viscount flatly. “We’ll have to think of some way to keep Rule off.”
Ten minutes later Captain Heron walked in to find both gentlemen plunged in profound thought, the Viscount propping his chin in his hands, Sir Roland sucking the head of his cane. Captain Heron looked from one to the other, and said: “I came to see what you mean to do next. You’ve heard nothing of Lethbridge, I suppose?”
The Viscount lifted his head. “By God, I have it!” he exclaimed. “You shall draw Rule off!”
“I shall do what?” asked Captain Heron, startled.
“I don’t see how,” objected Sir Roland.
“Lord, Pom, nothing easier! Private affairs to discuss. Rule can’t refuse.”
Captain Heron laid his hat and gloves down on the table. “Pelham, do you mind explaining? Why has Rule to be drawn off?”
“Why, because of—oh, you don’t know, do you? You see, Horry’s had a letter from someone offering to give her back the brooch if she’ll meet him in the temple at the end of the Long Walk at Vauxhall tonight. Looks like Lethbridge to me—must be Lethbridge. Well, I had it all fixed that she and I and Pom here and you should go to Vauxhall, and while she went to the temple we’d stand guard.”
“That seems a good idea,” nodded Captain Heron. “But it’s surely odd of—”
“Of course it’s a good plan! It’s a devilish good plan. But what must that plaguy fellow Rule do but take it into his head to come too! As soon as I heard that I sent Pom off to invite him to a card-party at his house.”
Sir Roland sighed. “Pressed him as much as I could. No use. Bent on going
“But how the deuce am I to stop him?” asked Captain Heron.
“You’re the very man!” said the Viscount. “All you have to do is to go off to Grosvenor Square now and tell Rule you’ve matters of importance to discuss with him. If he asks you to discuss ’em at once, you say you can’t. Business to attend to. Only time you can spare is this evening. That’s reasonable enough: Rule knows you’re only in town for a day or two. Burn it, he can’t refuse!”
“Yes, but, Pelham, I haven’t anything of importance to discuss with him!” protested Captain Heron.
“Lord, you can think of something, can’t you?” said the Viscount. “It don’t signify what you talk about as long as you keep him away from Vauxhall. Family affairs—money—anything!”
“I’m damned if I will!” said Captain Heron. “After all Rule’s done for me I can’t and I won’t tell him that I want to talk about money!”
“Well, don’t tell him so. Just say you must have a private word with him tonight. He ain’t the man to ask you what it’s about, and dash it, Edward, you must be able to talk about something when it comes to the point!”
“Of course you must,” corroborated Sir Roland. “Nothing simpler. You’ve been at this War in America, haven’t you? Well, tell him about that. Tell him about that battle you was in—forgotten its name.”
“But I can’t beg Rule to give me an evening alone with him, and then sit telling him stories he don’t want to hear about the war!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” temporized Sir Roland. “You don’t know he doesn’t want to hear them. Any number of people take a deal of interest in this war. I don’t myself, but that ain’t to say Rule doesn’t.”
“You don’t seem to understand,” said Captain Heron wearily. “You expect me to make Rule believe I’ve
