Meanwhile, Heyton returned to the Hall; walking with a certain

jauntiness which was not altogether assumed; for the disposal of the

jewel-case had been an immense relief. Some of the servants were now

about, and to her surprise, he wished one of the maids good morning

quite pleasantly; to her surprise, because Heyton's manner to his

inferiors was usually anything but a pleasant one; and, while all the

household was devoted to the Marquess, and would have done anything for

him, his son was unpopular. As he passed along the lower hall, Heyton

glanced at the window he had opened: it had not been shut. He went up

the stairs and, as he entered his dressing-room, hummed the latest comic

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song. The breakfast hour at the Hall was half-past nine; the Marquess

was called at half-past eight, but Heyton's valet had orders not to

disturb his master until he rang, and, more often than not, Heyton's

bell did not ring until breakfast was on the table.

Heyton threw himself down on the bed and closed his eyes with the

preposterous idea of getting a little sleep; but he lay and listened,

and presently he heard Miriam's maid knocking at the bedroom door; then

he rose and rang for his man.

"Early this morning, eh, Simcox?" he said. "Been for a swim. Feel jolly

fit. Fact is, we all lie abed too late; I've half a mind to get up for a

bath in the lake every morning."

The valet grinned to himself as he answered respectfully, "Yes, my lord. Very pleasant in the morning."

When he had half finished dressing, Heyton called to Miriam.

"I say, Miriam, what about a drive this morning? We might go over to

Teynsham."

"I don't know; I'll see," she called back listlessly.

"I'll wear a tweed suit," said Heyton to his man; "I'll have the new

one. And, look here, you tell the tailor to give me a little more room

round the waist. I suppose I must be getting fat, eh, Simcox?"

"Oh, not fat, my lord," murmured Simcox, remonstratingly.

"More--er--comfortable."

When the man had finished with him, Heyton lit a cigarette and leant

back in his chair--as if he were waiting for something.

He had not to wait long.

A cry rang through the house; it was followed by others; there was the

sound of rushing footsteps and voices raised in terror; his door was

flung open and Simcox stood on the threshold, his face white, his eyes

starting; he gaped at his master speechlessly, and Heyton gaped back at

him.




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