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  I

  THE HOUSE IN CURZON STREET

  My name is Agar Hume. My mother died when I was two years old. Myfather was the first violin in a second-rate music hall orchestra atBirmingham. He had once been a gentleman. He taught me French and howto play the flute. Between whiles he treated me like a dog. He wishedme to become a member of his orchestra. My tastes, however, inclined tothe stage. From early childhood I had possessed an almost perfecttalent for mimicry. When I was nineteen years old, there was not anartist I had ever seen whom I could not represent to the life. Onemorning, about that time, in a fit of drunken rage my father gave me aterrible beating. I was then somewhat undersized--the result ofirregular meals and bad food. I could neither retaliate nor defendmyself. That night, as soon as my father had set off for the theatre, Iran away from home. I walked to Liverpool, and easily obtainedemployment at a music hall, where for three years I nightly imitatedevery actor and person of note whom the Liverpudlians wished to see.They grew tired of me at last and ceased to applaud my turn. I waspromptly discharged by the management. Not caring to return toBirmingham, as my father had never forgiven me for deserting him, Imade my way to London. I had saved a little money, and I thought thatbefore it was spent I should procure a new engagement. The Londonmarket, however, was simply glutted with mimics, and before threemonths had passed I was penniless and still without a place. I hauntedthe theatres and employment agencies to no purpose. I was obliged topawn my wardrobe, and at last a day came when I stood in the Strandowning nothing in the world but the suit of decent black I wore and mymake-up box, which I carried in my hand because I had been turned outof my lodging-house that morning. I had not tasted food forfour-and-twenty hours. I mentioned the latter fact ten minutes later tothe manager of the next employment agency I visited. He had seen me sooften that he knew me well, and he sympathized with my misfortune.

  "Look here," said he, "if you are so hard up as all that, your onlyhope is to try your hand at something else. There is no chance for youat the theatres."

  "I'm ready to turn boot-black!" I assured him.

  "Well, well," said he, "a client of ours inquired yesterday for avalet. If you are really willing to put your pride in your pocket, Ishall personally recommend you."

  "I have no pride," I answered, "but I have also no experience."

  He gave me a pitying smile. "Certainly not, but I believe that you arehungry--you look it!"

  I was so hungry indeed that I thanked him warmly, and a few minutesafterwards I was walking as fast as I could towards Piccadilly with aletter in my pocket which bore the following address:--"Sir WilliamDagmar, Bart., 22a Curzon Street."

  It was a small two-storied house, but it looked good, and I raised theknocker tremblingly.

  A footman opened the door, to whom I gave my precious letter. He wascivil because my clothes were well cut, and because I have theappearance of a gentleman. He invited me to a seat in an anteroom, andwent off with my letter. When he returned, he carried his nose in theair, and his bearing was unaffectedly contemptuous.

  "Huh!" he sniffed. "Step this way, but wipe your shoes on that matfirst, please!"

  I obeyed. He led me to a room on the first floor, opened the seconddoor and announced in an oily voice

  "The valet--Sir William."

  Had I been a man of pride, I should have felt offended. As it was Iwalked into the room quite undisturbed, and with the most respectfulmien I was able to assume.

  The door closed behind me. The walls of the room, which was a largeone, were piled from floor to ceiling with books, which ran in longstraggling tiers, on shelves of carven oak. Books littered the carpetabout the bases of the shelves. Rows of books lying one upon another,were heaped upon an immense table that occupied the centre of the room.Dust covered the books. A revolving bookcase crammed with books stoodbeside the chair upon which Sir William Dagmar sat. The apartmentresembled, except for its air of general untidiness, nothing so much asa corner in the British Museum library. It possessed no windows, andwas lighted from the roof like a gallery of pictures. I am a keenlyobservant man by nature, and from a lad I had persistently developed mypeculiar faculty for the sake of my profession. At that time it wasonly necessary for me to glance at a place, person or thing in order tophotograph its character and details on my mind. A second after Ientered the room I looked at Sir William, but I had already said tomyself: "A book-worm!"

  So he appeared, and nothing to my surprise. He was of middle size andage. His features were regular and even handsome. His complexion wasyellow and bloodless. He possessed a broad rather high forehead, and alarge head covered with a mass of stubbly iron-grey hair. His nose waslong and straight. His chin was a trifle weak. He was clean shaven. Thekey to his face was his mouth. It was large and sensitive. It had atrick of screwing itself up at the corners, and sending the upper lipinto a curl of sneering querulousness, which I immediately experiencedan itch to imitate. His teeth were long, even and very white, but theright incisor was lacking, and this circumstance made his voice soundslightly sibilant. His eyes were grey like my own, but they were setdeeper in his head, and the man had twice my weight of years stoopinghis narrow shoulders.

  He regarded me appraisingly. "I need a valet," he began. His voice wasquerulous like his mouth.

  "Yes, sir," said I.

  "You are recommended by Mr. Bray. You look young--rather too young. Whydid you leave your last place?"

  "My employer could not afford to keep me any longer. I was with him forthree years, sir."

  "Show me your references."

  I had expected that demand. "I gave them to Mr. Bray, sir," I answeredglibly. "Did he not send them on to you? He said he would enclose themin his letter!"

  Sir William shook his head, and a bored look crept into his eyes. "Isuppose they are all right," he muttered wearily. "I like your voice;it is soft. If you want to please me never raise it. My head aches veryeasily."

  "I shall remember, sir," I answered in my mildest accents.

  "When could you commence your duties?"

  "At once, sir."

  He raised his eyebrows, then nodded languidly.

  "Very well. I shall give you a trial. Your wages will be L5 a month andyour keep. Butts, the footman, will show you to your room and explainmy ways to you. I shall ring when I require you."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "By the way, Bray writes me that your name is Agar Hume. I dislike it.Once upon a time I had a friend named Hume. I shall call you Brown."

  "Very good, sir."

  I backed out of the room, and as I half expected found the footman inthe passage. His air of defiant indifference informed me that he hadbeen listening through the keyhole. He was an owlish looking creature,but there were garrulous wrinkles about his eyes and lips whichdetermined me to treat him civilly.

  "Sir William has engaged me, Mr. Butts," I said in a low voice. "Willyou be good enough to show me to my room. I am to start work at once."

  "You won't stay here long," he mumbled as he tip-toed off. "They neverdo."

  I had no intention of staying one day longer than I could help. But Idid not confide the fact to Butts. As I followed him my one thought wasto get my hands on food as soon as possible. I was desperately hungry.He took me upstairs to an attic room at the back of the house. It wassmall, but well lighted and clean, also it smelt of lavender. Itcontained a deal wardrobe with a full length mirror, a truckle bed, adressing table and a wash stand. There was also a carpet on the floor.I felt pleased, but I was famished.

  "Here you hare!" growled Butts.

  I put down my make-up box, and faced him.

  "I should like to be friends with you, Mr. Butts," I said. "I dare saywe shall be cast a good deal in each other's company. What do you say?"I offered him my hand.

  He grinned and took it. My apparent ingenuousness had melted him atonce. He was not a bad hearted fellow, it seemed.

  "All right," he said. "What's yer name?"

  "Brown."

  "What did yer th
ink of 'im," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

  "A book-worm, isn't he--but what do you say if we discuss him over aglass of beer and some bread and cheese?"

  "Good!" said Butts, and with an alacrity that delighted me, he led theway by the servants' staircase to the pantry on the ground floor. Forbeer, however, he gave me port wine, and for bread and cheese a coldpartridge.

  "You seem to live well here," I commented with my mouth full.

  "So so!" answered Butts with a sigh. "Tucker's all right--but it's socursed lonely. Master never goes out, except to meals, and it's veryseldom he hever has any company here, honly about once a month."

  "Oh! a bit of a hermit, eh?"

  "A bloomin' misanthrope--that's what I call him! He 'ates noise likepoison. Hif I was to drop a plate 'e'd ring to know what the devil Imeant by it?"

  "Married?"

  "No. He 'ates women wors'n noise, I believe."

  "How does he pass his time?"

  "Reads all day--half the night too."

  "What does he want with a valet, then?"

  "You'll soon find out," said Butts with a snort of contempt.

  "Please tell me."

  Butts wagged his head. "Bar shavin' him you won't 'ave much to do,'cept give him his medicines at the proper hours. He's a sick man isSir William Dagmar! The last valet 'e had here, Joe Bates, was a realsmart un he was. He'd done for Lord X---- and Mr. Francis, and a lot moretip-toppers. He was just celebrated for fixing hevenin' dress ties; andSir William always wears ready made ones to save trouble. Bates got themiserables in a week, an' hup an' cleared out before the fortnight wasup."

  "What is the matter with Sir William?"

  "Consumption! He's got it bad!"

  "Oh! is he rich?"

  "Rich as Croesus."

  "Any relatives?"

  "A cousin he 'ates wors'n noise and wors'n women. A young chap name o'Sefton Dagmar. He's heir to the title, but I'm not thinkin' he'll getmuch o' the splosh. Sir William's got it all in Government bonds and hecan leave it as he likes."

  "What is this Sefton Dagmar like?"

  "Not a bad sort. He's always haffable enough to me. He lives atNewhaven, but he calls here once in a while to see how Sir William is.But he hardly ever sees him. Hi! there's master's bell--I'll be back ina minute."

  As soon as Butts had disappeared I gave my appetite free rein and avery hearty meal I made. He was absent a quarter of an hour, and on hisreturn he wore a look of annoyance. "Nuisance!" he began. "He's halwaysworriting about this time. He's goin' to give a dinner party to-morrownight. He gives one every month. But he wants you! Hurry up, he 'atesto be kep waitin'."

  I was up the stairs in a twinkle, and again standing before SirWilliam. He looked bored to death.

  "Some gentlemen will dine with me to-morrow night, Brown," he drawled."Six in all. Their names are on this paper, and their table placesmarked. I wish you to serve--Butts is a clumsy waiter."

  I received the paper with a deferential bow. "Very good, sir!" Imurmured.

  "You will also see that card tables are arranged in the smoking room.Butts will order the dinner, he knows my ways. But you will take chargeof the arrangements. You seem a capable young fellow."

  "Thank you, sir!"

  "And Brown," he frowned heavily.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Don't fill my glass too often. I am an invalid, you know, and winedoes not agree with me. That is all. I shall not want you again untilseven o'clock this evening, when you may dress me for dinner!"

  Butts and I studied the paper that Sir William had given me, with thegreatest attention. I soon gathered that the six gentlemen who were todine with my master were not members of the smart set of society suchas Butts called "tip-toppers," but men of intellectual attainment, andleaders of thought, if not of fashion. Butts knew them all. "Theybelong to Sir William's club, the 'Athenian,'" he remarked. "This hereSir Charles Venner who's to take the seat of honour is a cove what cutsup dead dogs and such like while they are alive."

  "A vivisectionist?" I asked smiling.

  "Don't know what you call 'em," responded Butts. "But he's doctor, andso is Mr. Fulton, who is to sit opposite on master's left. The nextchap on the right--Luke Humphreys--is a hauthor, on political economy.Mr. Husband is the chap who wrote that article in the _National Review_on the weakness of the Navy, which kicked up such a blessed fuss awhile since. You must have heard of him?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "Well, George Cavanagh is an artist and a R.A. Master has one of hispictures in the dining room--you'll see it presently: a naked womanwith a chap--'Love and Death' it's called."

  I had much ado not to laugh outright. "I've seen prints of it," Imuttered. "Who is the last, Mr. Nevil Pardoe, Butts?"

  "He's a playwright," answered Butts with a sigh. "They're playin' oneof his pieces now at the Kensington Theatre. I went there the othernight and got my pocket picked for my trouble." He kicked over a chairas he spoke, as if carried away by temper in remembering hismisfortune. The bell rang on instant. "Oh, Lor!" groaned Butts. "I'm infor it again, that man has the ears of a mole!"

  He came back a few minutes later looking very sour. "Called me a clodhopper!" he growled in a low voice. "He's got a reptile tongue. Butcome upstairs, Brown, and I'll show you his bedroom--an' where he keepshis clothes an' things!"

  It was an immense apartment, magnificently furnished. But it was veryuntidy and medicine bottles, some full, some empty, crowded themantelpiece and dressing tables. The place smelt like a druggist'sstore. "I'll clear that rubbish away first thing," I declared. But thefootman seized my arm as I caught up the first bottle. "He'd go ravin'stark starin' mad if one of them was shifted," he cried. "Don't youtouch 'em, lad."

  I shrugged my shoulders, and watched Butts ransack our master'swardrobe, he explaining to me the while certain preferences in mattersof taste and dress which Sir William had always manifested. It appearedthat he detested colours. All his suits were black, also his boots andgloves.

  "You seem to know him so well, Butts," I remarked at last, "that Iwonder more and more why he has not made you his valet."

  "It's my haccent!" sighed Butts. "He can't abear it. Whenever I drop ahaitch, in his 'earing, he shrivels up."

  During the afternoon I borrowed half a sovereign from Butts, andpurchased some fresh linen.

  While dressing Sir William Dagmar later in the evening, I only spokewhen he addressed me, and then in softest monosyllables. He seemedpleased with my attentions. But then I have frequently noticed that noman is hard to please whose idiosyncrasies are humoured when detected.He gave me a list of his medicines and the hours when they should beadministered, after which he departed to dine at a neighbouringrestaurant, in which his habit was to take most of his meals in aprivate room, perfectly alone.

  Butts and I dined together in the pantry, and a merry time we spent,until our master's return, when noise was prohibited.

  On the morrow the house was more or less in the hands of a bevy ofrestaurateurs preparing for the dinner. Sir William went out early inthe morning, and he was absent all day, but he returned in time for meto dress him, and he appeared to be pleased with our arrangements. Thetable indeed looked magnificent, for I had taken care to deck it withflowers, and my taste in such matters is excellent. I did not see theguests until dinner was served, and they were all seated at the table.I wore an evening suit of my master's, which on Butts' advice I hadborrowed beforehand without the formality of asking permission, havingnone of my own. Sir William was not an observant man, _grace au Dieu_!I entered the room noiselessly, and slipped behind my master's chair.The table had been previously spread with oysters. No one spoke, untilthe shells were emptied; meanwhile I studied the six attentively. Theywere intelligent, but cold-faced men. Sir Charles Venner had anenormous nose, and very small grey eyes. Dr. Fulton possessed ahare-lip. Mr. Humphreys rejoiced in a squint. George Cavanagh mighthave stepped from a portrait by Van Dyck, but he had a trick ofscrewing up the tip of his nose under the influence of ex
citement, atintervals, as a rabbit does. Mr. Husband put out his tongue, to meethis fork as he ate, he possessed a prodigious chin; and Mr. NevilPardoe had watchful heavy lidded eyes. These traits were theirkey-notes so to speak--their individual and predominant peculiarities,which distinguished them from each other and from other distinguishedmen. From the rest of the world, they were one and all distinguished bya common pallor of complexion, and a curious cough, which stamped themas consumptives.

  As I removed their plates, Sir Charles Venner broke a silence that I atleast was beginning to find oppressive. "I believe you will be thefirst to go after all, Dagmar!" he remarked in French, casting a keenglance at my master. "Pardoe seems picking up. He doesn't cough so muchto-night." It was evident that no one suspected me of anacquaintanceship with French.

  Sir William shrugged his shoulders. "I am ready," he returned. "But Idon't think so. Will you bet, or any one?"

  "I'll lay you even money that Pardoe turns up his toes before you,Dagmar!" cut in Mr. Husband.

  "Very good," said Sir William. "How much?"

  "A hundred!"

  "It is a wager!" Sir William took out his pencil and scrawled somefigures on his shirt cuff.

  "I'll take you too, Husband," cried Mr. Cavanagh.

  "And I," chorused Dr. Fulton and Sir Charles.

  "No thanks," retorted Mr. Husband drily. "My book is full. How are youfeeling yourself, Venner?"

  "Nice and poorly, thanks, but with care I'll out-last the lot of you!"He broke out into a fit of coughing as he finished speaking, and theothers bending forward, watched him eagerly. Their expressions remindedme of a lot of hungry carnivora eyeing a bone held just beyond theirreach.

  They drank their soup in silence, but while I served to them theentree, they conversed again.

  "I'm in the hands of a quack," began Nevil Pardoe. "The enterprisingdevil has agreed to cure me for the sake of an advertisement."

  "Oh! How long?"

  "Ten days now. Upon honour I feel a little better already."

  "Where is he to be found?" demanded my master suddenly.

  A roar of laughter drowned the reply. But Sir William looked annoyed."It's not that I want to live," he explained in tones of anger. "I knowI'm doomed, but Cavanagh stands to lose two thousand pounds--if Ipredecease Pardoe, and as he is only a poor devil of an artist--I'dlike to improve his chances!"

  "Quite so," sneered Sir Charles. "We all know your affection forCavanagh. But my dear Dagmar, fair play is a jewel you know. You mustkill or cure yourself off your own bat, unless you choose to pair withPardoe and adopt his treatment altogether. Those are the rules."

  "You need not remind me," said my master drily. "By the way, Husband,what was the result of your last examination?"

  "Two pounds short of my former weight, but the hole in my remaininglung has not sensibly increased. Jackson gives me solid assurance of atleast twelve months."

  "Lucky devil!" sighed Mr. Cavanagh. "I'm booked in half the time,though I might drag on for a year or two if I were to try Egypt!"

  "Has your limit been changed since our last meeting, Fulton," asked Mr.Pardoe.

  "Only by effluxion of the intervening time. I'll feed the worms in justunder ten months, unless a cab runs over me, or some other accidentoccurs."

  Sir William raised his wineglass. "Gentlemen," said he, "I drink to theTubercle Bacillus!"

  "Our master!" chorused the others, and every glass was drained.

  I quickly refilled all but Sir William's, wondering the while whether Ihad fallen among an assembly of ghouls, or if I was not the victim ofsome ghastly joke. The _piece de resistance_ of the dinner was adressed calf's head, which Sir William Dagmar carved. Not one of hisguests began to eat until all were helped. But when that was done, mymaster suddenly ordered me to leave the room. Butts regarded meenquiringly as I came out. "Spoke some foreign lingo, didn't they?" heasked.

  I nodded.

  "They allers do," he went on. "Why, I don't know, for the life o' me. Alot of death's heads I call them."

  "They look like consumptives," I suggested.

  "Like as not they hare!" he returned. "Look at this muss, Brown! Whatdo you make of it?"

  He held up a huge bowl of cream into which a hundred different speciesof nuts had been grated. "This is what they take for sweets," he saidwith a shiver. "It tastes 'orrible!"

  "Perhaps it is medicine."

  "May be. I spose you didn't make out hanything they said, Brown?"

  "They spoke in French, Butts," I replied.

  He shrugged his shoulders, and we waited for the bell. When it rang Itook in the bowl of nut cream.

  "Do you understand French, Brown?" demanded my master as soon as thedoor closed behind me.

  "Not a word, sir."

  "Very good. Serve the sweets, please."

  A murmur of approval went round the table. The gentlemen ate theircream in silence, and washed it down with champagne. I refilled theirglasses with the dexterity of an expert waiter, and I was about toresume my old place behind my master's chair, when he fixed me with hiseyes, and addressed me suddenly in French. "Brown!" cried he, "leavethe room this instant!"

  I halted and looked at him with a stupid air. "Beg pardon, sir. Did youspeak to me, sir?"

  He smiled and answered in English. "Yes, Brown, fill my glass please. Iforgot that you do not understand French!"

  "You should have tested the fellow beforehand," said Sir Charles Vennerin French. "The closer you approach your tomb, Dagmar, the morecareless you become!"

  "What does it matter," said my master wearily. "Pardoe, kindly presentyour report!"

  Mr. Pardoe got slowly to his feet, and I marvelled to see for the firsttime, his lean ungainly frame. A bag of skin and bone it was, no more.A frightful fit of coughing preluded his speech. When he had recovered,he put his right foot on a chair, and leaning on his bony knee, beganas follows:--

  "Gentlemen, this is our seventeenth monthly gathering since theinitiation of our order, and we are all, seven of us, still aboveground, although we were all condemned as incurable before we firstforegathered. During the period I have indicated not one of us hasflinched from his bargain, and as your latest secretary, gentlemen, Iam pleased to announce that I have duly and regularly received fromeach member the weekly contribution fixed by our rules. The amount atpresent standing to my credit in trust for the order is L7,000." Hetook a small pass-book from his pocket, and handed it to his nearestneighbour, who glanced at its contents and passed it up the table toSir William. "You will find in that book, gentlemen, a cheque for theamount named marked 'good' by the Bank. I have the honor now to tenderyou my resignation. Mr. Cavanagh should, I believe, be my successor."

  He sat down again, coughing terribly.

  Sir William nodded. "It is your turn, Cavanagh," he said quietly. "Youwill hold office for the current month."

  "Very well," replied Mr. Cavanagh, tugging fiercely at his moustache ashe spoke. "You fellows can forward your subs, direct to my studio,without waiting for notices. I never write letters."

  Sir William arose, holding the cheque above his head. "Whose shall itbe this time, friends?" he demanded. "Remember that I have won threetimes running. Will any give me odds?"

  "I," cried Dr. Fulton sharply. "I'll lay you seven to one in hundreds,Dagmar, that you do not win to-night."

  "Done! Come, gentlemen."

  They trooped out of the room, and I, ablaze with curiosity, made hasteto follow them, carrying a silver tray of coffee and liqueurs withwhich Butts supplied me.

  I found them standing around the larger card-table, watching, inperfect silence, Mr. Nevil Pardoe shaking an iron dice-box. Upon themiddle of the cloth lay the cheque for L7,000 face upwards, which Mr.Pardoe had given to Sir William. No one heeded me, so I put down thetray and watched them. Presently Mr. Pardoe scattered the dice upon thecloth.

  "Five," said Mr. Cavanagh, picking up the dice. "Your turn, SirCharles."

  Sir Charles took up the box, scarcely rattled it, and threw
.

  "Six," said Mr. Cavanagh. "Dr. Fulton."

  The doctor threw eleven; Mr. Husband five; Mr. Humphreys thirteen, andMr. Cavanagh sixteen.

  When the latter's fortune was declared, Dr. Fulton rubbed his handstogether. "He! he! he! beat that, Dagmar!" he chuckled.

  Sir William took up the box for half a minute, and scattered the pieceswithout looking at the board.

  "Seventeen!" said Mr. Cavanagh in a stifled voice. The poor young man'sface was a ghastly sight to witness. He had evidently made sure ofwinning, and the snatching of the cup from his lips had cost him amonth of his fast dwindling life, or his looks belied him. He sank intoa chair and began to cough so violently that a bloody foam soon stainedthe handkerchief he held before his mouth.

  Sir William, with a curiously blank smile, took up the cheque andslipped it into his pocket. "I'll trouble you for seven hundred poundsat your leisure, Fulton," he said quietly.

  "I'll post it," snapped the doctor. "May the furies seize your luck!That is the fourth time in succession you have fleeced us!"

  The others shrugged their shoulders, and sought chairs, which they drewabout the board. I served them immediately with coffee. A moment later,each had a pile of bank-notes and gold before him, and at the centre ofthe table, in a little cup-like depression, lay a heap of sovereigns.The game was draw poker. It was a strange experience for me to watchthem. All seven seemed gamblers born. All had death in their faces, andwere living only by the grace of their disease. All were men ofuncommon intellect. They played with a rigid affectation ofindifference, that poorly concealed their underlying eagerness. Theyonly spoke to bet, and the stakes ran high. From the first Sir WilliamDagmar won. His luck was marvellous. Standing as I did behind hischair, I could see his cards and his opponents' faces. Twice running,four queens were dealt him. Each time he won a considerable sum, andeach time six pair of wolfish eyes detested his good fortune. Twiceagain he drew for a flush, and made it. On the latter occasion, two ofhis opponents held full hands--Sir Charles Venner and Mr. Cavanagh. Theothers passed out, but Venner and Cavanagh bet to the limit, a hundredpounds. Sir William called them, and with his customary blandness,scooped the pool. They arose, with muttered curses, to their feet, andbecame spectators. Half an hour later the game broke up. Sir Williamhad despoiled the last of his guests, and his pockets simply bulgedwith money.

  "It is an omen!" he declared. "I now believe that I shall be the firstto go! Fate is fond of such little ironies! Brown," he added inEnglish. "Help these gentlemen to don their cloaks. My friends,good-night."

  They replied with the curtest of nods, and I attended them from thehouse.

  While I was undressing my master I racked my brains to try to discern ameans of turning to my own advantage what I had seen and heard thatnight. Sir William seemed worn out, and he got into bed immediately.But as I was about to extinguish the gas, he called me to him. "Well,Brown," said he, "what do you think of my luck?"

  "Wonderful, sir!" I replied, "simply wonderful."

  He nodded, and a sneer curled his lips. "In this life, Brown," hemuttered, "the things we neither need nor desire are oftenest showeredupon us. Be good enough to count my winnings."

  I obeyed, eyeing him covertly the while. But he had turned his back,and appeared to pay me no heed.

  "Seven thousand six hundred and thirteen pounds," I announced at last.

  He glanced round at me, a smile upon his face. "I am glad to see thatyou are an honest man, Brown," he said quietly. "That will do--you maygo."

  I had been bitterly tempted, but, well he had turned his back upon me.Charmed with the result of my astuteness, I left the room and sought myown. There I occupied myself for a few minutes with my make-up box, andwhen quite satisfied with my appearance, I tip-toed down stairs to thepantry.

  Butts was seated before a dainty meal, and in the act of opening abottle of champagne.

  "Butts!" said I, "when did I give you permission to drink my champagne?"

  He sprang to his feet uttering a cry of terror, and the bottle toppledover the table.

  "Sir William!" he gasped, "Oh, sir; oh, sir!"

  "Look at me!" I commanded.

  His eyes almost bulged out of his head. "Is there anything in myappearance?" I demanded, "which might lead you to suppose that I am thesort of man to allow my servants such indulgence."

  "Oh, sir. Please forgive me, sir!" he mumbled, shaking like a leaf."I--I----"

  "Dishonest in one thing, then in another," I interrupted sternly. "Howmuch did you steal in providing to-night's dinner? Tell me the truth,or I shall send for the police!"

  "Not a penny sir--so--help me! The wine man gave me two poundscommission on the order, that is all, sir--so help me!"

  "Hand it over to me at once, and let this be a lesson to you!" Icommanded.

  Butts, trembling, placed two sovereigns in my outstretched palm.

  "Was Brown a partner in your rascality?" I demanded.

  "No--no, sir," he stammered. "Oh! oh! please forgive me, sir. I'llnever do it again, sir--so help me!" The fellow actually fell on hisknees before me, and tears of entreaty rolled down his cheeks.

  "I'll forgive you this once!" I returned, and swinging on my heel, Ileft the pantry.

  Ten minutes later Butts poured into my ears a wild tale of how SirWilliam Dagmar had caught him opening a bottle of champagne, and of therow that they had had. But he told me nothing about the two sovereignsreposing that instant in my pocket.

  I went to sleep that night perfectly self-satisfied, and so reconciledwith my position as Sir William Dagmar's valet, that I would not havechanged places with Dan Leno himself. I had formed a fine plan toenrich myself, and I determined to abandon the stage for ever.