"I assumed the name," said Scarsdale with an effort, "to screen from possible annoyance a lady who was under my protection. With the permission of the court, however, I should prefer not to go into this matter further, as it has no direct bearing on the charge. My action was foolish, and I have been punished for it."

"You certainly chose an unfortunate alias," commented the magistrate drily, and, much to the prisoner's relief, turned to another phase of the case.

"What are you doing in Winchester?"

"I am on my honeymoon. I was married yesterday."

A titter of laughter ran round the court-room; but the magistrate frowned, and continued:

"I suppose that is the reason why you registered under an assumed name, and are travelling with somebody else's wife?"

There was more laughter, for the justice had a local reputation as a wit. Scarsdale boiled inwardly, but held his peace; while his judge, who seemed to feel that he had strayed a little from the subject in hand, after a moment's silence asked shortly:

"Do you plead guilty or not guilty to these charges?"

"Not guilty!"

"Do you wish this matter settled here or in a superior court?"

"I desire that it be settled here, provided I am given an opportunity to prove my identity."

"You will be given every reasonable opportunity. What do you wish?"

"I wish to ask first by whom these charges are preferred."

"The charge of assault and battery has been brought by the landlord of the Lion's Head."

"I infer that the landlord served Richard Allingford in person on the night in question, and would be likely to know him if he saw him."

The magistrate conferred with the detective, and replied that such was the case.

"If the question is not out of order," resumed the prisoner, "may I ask if the landlord of the Lion's Head is a reputable witness, and one whose testimony might be relied on?"

"I think you may trust yourself in his hands," replied the justice, who had seen all along whither the case was tending.

"Then," said Scarsdale, "I shall be satisfied to rest my case on his identification."

"That is quite a proper request," replied the magistrate. "Is the landlord of the Lion's Head present?"

At this a dapper little man jumped up in the audience, and explained that he was the landlord's physician, and that his patient, though convalescent, was still disabled by his injuries and unable to attend court.

On inquiry being made as to when he could put in an appearance, the physician replied that he thought the landlord could come the next day.

The magistrate therefore consulted for a moment with the detective, and then said to the prisoner:

"Your case is remanded for trial until to-morrow."

Scarsdale held up his hand in token that he wished to speak.

"Well," said the magistrate, "what else?"

"If I can, by the time this court meets to-morrow, produce reputable witnesses from London to prove my identity," asked the prisoner, "will their evidence be admitted?"

"If they can identify themselves as such to the satisfaction of the court, yes."

The magistrate thereupon dismissed the case, and Scarsdale was removed from the court-room.

He felt he had come off singularly well, and, except for the annoyance and delay would have little further trouble. What he most desired was an interview with Mrs. Allingford; but what with a change in his quarters, owing to the deferment of the trial, and the difficulty of getting word to her, it was the middle of the afternoon before this was accomplished.

The unfortunate little woman seemed completely broken down by this fresh disaster, and it was some time before she could control herself sufficiently to talk calmly with him.

"I shall never, never forgive myself," she sobbed. "It is all my fault that you have incurred this disgrace. I can never look your wife in the face again."

"Nonsense!" he said, trying to cheer her up. "There is no disgrace in being arrested for what somebody else has done; and as for its being your fault, why, it was I who proposed to pass myself off as your husband's brother."

"But I allowed it, only I did not know anything about my brother-in-law, except that he existed; his being in England is a complete surprise to me." A remark which caused Scarsdale to be thankful that he had said nothing to her about that scene at the club when the Consul heard of Dick's arrival. "He must be very wicked. I'm so sorry. But we won't talk about him now; we will talk about you. What can I do to retrieve myself?" she continued.

"Let us consider your own affairs first," he replied. "I wasn't able to send a telegram to Basingstoke last night; I was arrested on my way to the office."

"I sent one, though, this morning, right after the trial."

"I didn't know that you knew where to go," he said.

"I didn't," she returned; "but that queer American person, who wouldn't swear to your identity, sent it for me. He is very odd, but I'm sure he has a good heart. He was so distressed over the whole affair, and offered to be of any assistance he could."

"Oh!" said Scarsdale. He was not pre-possessed in Faro Charlie's favour.

"So I think," she went on, "that if they are at Basingstoke, they will be here in a few hours. I told them all about your arrest and where I was staying."

"So far so good. Allingford can identify me even to the satisfaction of this magistrate, I think. But it is just as well to have two strings to one's bow, so I have another plan to suggest; but first let me hear if you have done anything else."

"No; but I think I shall telegraph to my mother. I can't spend another night here alone."

"Why don't you wait and see if your husband does not turn up? I hate to give our affairs more publicity than is necessary," he suggested.

"Would you prefer me to do so?"

"Yes, very much; if you don't mind."

"Then I will. I think, after my share in this unfortunate business, you ought to have the first consideration. Now tell me your plan."

"I propose that we telegraph to your husband's best man, Jack Carrington, asking him to come to Winchester this evening. He can identify me, and identify himself also, for he has a brother who is an officer in one of the regiments stationed here."

"Just the thing!" she cried. "I'll send it at once."

"No," replied Scarsdale. "You write it and I'll send it." He did not wish any more of his plans to be revealed to Faro Charlie.

CHAPTER VIII
IN WHICH A SERIOUS CHARGE IS LAID AT THE CONSUL'S DOOR

Jack Carrington, Esquire, Gentleman, sat in his snug little sitting-room, in one of the side streets of Mayfair, shortly before seven in the evening, feeling uncommonly blue. He was, without doubt, in a most unfortunate position. Born and bred a gentleman; educated to do nothing, yet debarred by lack of family influence from the two professions he might properly have entered, the army and the diplomatic corps; with not quite enough money to support his position as a bachelor, and no hopes of ever having any more, the outlook, matrimonially at least, was anything but encouraging, and there was a lady – with whose existence this narrative has no concern – who, had fortune smiled, might now be Mrs. Carrington: a possibility which had brought our quondam best man almost to the point of determining, according to those false standards which are happily fast passing away from English society, to be no longer a gentleman, but to go into trade.

Such, then, was his condition when the door-bell rang, and a moment later a card was brought to him bearing the name of Lady Scarsdale. He looked at it, scarcely believing his eyes. How came it that she should call on him at an hour so strikingly unconventional? It was therefore with no little bewilderment that he gave orders to have her shown in.

When her ladyship, whom he had never seen before, entered his parlour, he found himself face to face with a strikingly handsome woman of middle age, dressed in semi-mourning. She accepted his outstretched hand, held it a second, and, taking the seat he offered, said, with just a glance in the direction of a demure little woman who followed her into the room:

"Miss Wilkins."

Carrington bowed, and Miss Wilkins, maid or attendant, whichever she might be, retired to the remote end of the room, and promptly immersed herself in the only volume within reach, a French novel which Jack felt sure she had never seen before, and would not be likely to peruse to any great extent.

"You will naturally be surprised at my presence here this evening," said Lady Scarsdale.

Her host bowed and smiled, to show that pleasure and gratification were mingled; indeed, until she further declared her position he hardly knew how he ought to feel.

Her ladyship continued:

"My object in coming is unusual; it is, in short, to request your aid and assistance in a very extraordinary and delicate matter."

Jack bowed again, and his visitor proceeded:

"You will excuse me if I seem agitated" – she certainly did seem very much so, if red eyes and a quivering lip meant anything – "but I have scarcely recovered from the shock occasioned by the arrival of a telegram received this morning from a Mr. Allingford, at whose marriage, I think, you assisted."

"I was his best man."

"So I understand."

"Nothing wrong, I hope?"

"That you shall hear. Do you know my son, Mr. Scarsdale?"

"Only slightly."

"You may be aware that he was married yesterday." Jack nodded, and she continued: "To a Miss Vernon, an American. You know her, I believe?"

"Quite well," replied her host. "She is a most charming woman."

"Now this Mr. Allingford telegraphs me," resumed his visitor, "from my aunt Lady Melton's country seat, Melton Court, that he is staying there with my son's wife, who was Miss Vernon."

"Staying there with Allingford! At Melton Court!" gasped Jack, to whom this seemed the most improbable combination of circumstances. "But where is her husband?"

"I regret to say," replied her ladyship, "that, as a result of the two couples meeting each other at Basingstoke, they in some way became separated and carried off in different trains; so that my daughter-in-law and Mr. Allingford are now at my aunt's country place, near Salisbury, while my son and Mrs. Allingford have gone off together somewhere on the South Coast, and no trace can be found of them."

"But how did it happen?"

"The whole affair seems to have been the result of some deplorable blunder or accident; but in any event it is most distressing, and I came up at once to London, thinking you might be able to help me. But I see from your surprise that you have heard nothing from either party."

"Not a word. But I am quite at your service."

"Thanks. You may not know that, actuated by a spirit which I cannot admire, my son's wife and your friend each insisted on arranging the details of their wedding trips, and keeping the matter a profound secret, so that neither Mrs. Allingford nor my son knew their destination."

"Yes, I have heard something of it; but I infer that you have not honoured me by this visit without the hope that I may be able to aid you. Pray tell me how I can be of service."

My chief desire in calling on you, Mr. Carrington, was to learn if you had had any news of my son or his wife; but, of course, on my journey to town I have been thinking of various expedients, and though I hesitate to ask so great a favour from one I hardly know, you could, I think, be of great assistance to me.

"With pleasure. Do you wish me to telegraph to Allingford, or go in search of your son?"

"Neither. But I should be very grateful to you if you would go for me to Melton Court; I have not myself sufficient strength for the journey to-night; it is already late and I have no one to send. But I feel that my daughter-in-law is in an anomalous and probably unpleasant position; so, as I knew you to be a friend of both parties, I thought that perhaps you would be good enough to represent me, and see what could be done towards the solution of this unfortunate problem. My son's best man left for the Continent immediately after the ceremony, or I would have gone to him instead."

"There is nothing I should like better than to serve you," replied Jack, "but, to speak frankly, I have not the honour of knowing Lady Melton."

"If you will permit me to use your desk, I will give you a line of introduction."

Carrington bowed his consent.

"Now," she said, giving him the note, "when can you leave?"

"At once," he replied, "by the first train."

"You will, of course, act as you think best," she continued. "I am staying at the Berkeley for to-night, and if Mabel's husband has not rejoined her before you arrive, you had better bring her to me there to-morrow. As you are going on my behalf you must, of course, let me bear all expenses of the trip."

On this ground her ladyship was firm in spite of Carrington's protestations, and they finally parted, with many expressions of gratitude, on a mutual and highly satisfactory understanding.

As Jack employed a valet only on state occasions, he was, after a hurried dinner, deep in his preparations for immediate departure, when, about half-past eight, Mrs. Allingford's telegram from Winchester arrived, which it is hardly necessary to say startled him considerably. The news that Scarsdale was under arrest for the crime of another person, and the fact that it lay in his power to free him, seemed to prove without doubt that his first duty was to go to Winchester; but he had promised Lady Scarsdale to go to Melton Court, and it was impossible to do both that night. He was uncertain how to act, and what his ultimate decision would have been it is difficult to say, had not an outside influence decided matters for him. Another caller was announced.

"I'm not at home. Can't see anybody," said Carrington.

"That's not true, young man, and you've got to see me," replied a voice, and, as the door opened, to his astonishment Aunt Eliza advanced into the middle of the room, which was littered with his toilet articles.

"Why, Miss Cogbill!" he exclaimed, rising to greet her, "I thought you were in Paris."

"So I should be if I hadn't been stopped at Calais by a telegram from that good-for-nothing Consul of yours."

"Allingford. Then you know where they are?"

"Yes, and of all the fools – !"

"I've also heard from Scarsdale and Mrs. Allingford."

"You have! Where are they?"

"Winchester."

"Winchester! What are they doing there?"

"He's been arrested."

"Arrested!"

"Yes. Sit down and I'll tell you about it." Which he proceeded to do, and also about Lady Scarsdale's visit.

"Just so," commented Aunt Eliza when he had finished. "Now what do you propose doing next?"

"I suppose the proper thing would be to put the two couples in communication with each other," suggested Jack.

"Well, I'm not so sure," she said. "You and I are the only ones who know all the facts, and we must not act in a hurry. Now there's Allingford and Mabel down at Melton Court. They'll keep till to-morrow, I guess. It would just spoil her night's rest to know that her husband was in jail at Winchester, and send her over to him by the first train to-morrow morning, like as not, to weep on his neck and complicate the course of justice. Anyway, I don't think the two couples had better meet till we are present to soothe their ruffled feelings; for, after the mess that the Consul's brother has got them into, I dare say that, left to themselves, the Scarsdales and Allingfords wouldn't be real cordial to each other. But I see you are packing up. Now where are you going?"

"I was going down to Salisbury, at Lady Scarsdale's request."

"You're needed elsewhere. You go right down to Winchester this evening, so as you can be there when the court opens first thing to-morrow morning, to identify my good-for-nothing nephew, liberate him, and send him and Mrs. Allingford over to Melton Court as soon as you can. I'll be there before you to break the news to Mabel."

"Well, you see," he said, "I've promised her ladyship."

"Never mind that; your business is to fish these young people out of their troubles. I'll drive at once to Lady Scarsdale's hotel, and tell her of your change of plans, and go down myself by the first train to-morrow morning to Salisbury."

"Then," he said, closing his valise with a snap, "I shall leave at once for Winchester."

"Good boy!" said Aunt Eliza. "It's too bad they spoiled you by making you a gentleman; you have a first-class head for business."

"It is just what I've been thinking myself," he said ruefully.

"Have you?" cried the old lady, her face lighting up with genuine interest. "I'm glad to hear it. You just put this matter through successfully, and maybe it will be worth more to you than your expenses. Now I must be off, and so must you."

"Very well. I'll put up at the George," he said, as he helped her into a hansom.

"Right you are!" she cried, and signalled her driver to go on.

As Carrington found that he would not reach Winchester till late, he telegraphed Mrs. Allingford that he would see her the next morning, and that he had received news of the whereabouts of her husband and Scarsdale's wife, who were all right and would join them on the morrow.

On his arrival he went straight to the hotel that Mrs. Allingford had designated in her telegram, to find that that lady had retired for the night, leaving, however, a note for him which contained full instructions, and stated in addition that she had received his telegram, for which she was profoundly grateful, and that he must not hesitate to wake her if, by so doing, he could cause her to rejoin her husband one instant sooner.

As it was by this time close upon midnight, Carrington decided to let matters rest as they were till morning; especially as he had before he slept to hunt up his brother at the barracks, and so insure his attendance at court the next day. This was easily arranged; but the two men had much to talk over, and it was nearly daybreak when Jack set out to return to the hotel.

The shortest way back was by a cross cut through the mysterious darkness of the cathedral close, within which he heard the voices of two men in heated dispute, the tone of the one shrill with rage, while those of the other proclaimed that he had been drinking.

Carrington would have passed without noticing, so intent was he on his own affairs, had not a name which one of them pronounced arrested his attention and caused him to stop.

"You call Robert Allingford a thief!" came the thick tones of the intoxicated man.

"I say he stole it!" cried the shrill voice of the other.

"Call my brother a thief!" reiterated the first speaker. "He's Consul – gentleman. Gentlemen don't steal elephants."

"I say he stole it! Right away that day! Didn't wait for me to redeem it."

"You dare to call my brother thief!" The voice grew menacing.

"Twenty pounds he gave me – only one hundred dollars – for an elephant. I say he's a thief – !"

Here the shrill voice died away in a gulp, and there was a sound of blows and scuffling.

Carrington forced his way through the hedge, crying:

"Hold on! What is this about?"

At the sound of his voice the owner of elephants exclaimed: "The bobbies!" and, disengaging himself from the other, fled down the road; while his companion, who had started to follow him, was detained by Jack, who recognised his captive as none other than Richard Allingford.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh," said Allingford, "it's Mr. Carrington. Delighted to see you, I'm sure. Correcting that fellow. Says brother Robert stole elephant." His arrest had somewhat sobered him.

"Of course," said Carrington, "he didn't steal the elephant."

"Where is he?"

"Your brother?"

"Yes."

"At Melton Court, near Salisbury; but you must not go there."

"Yes, I will," replied Slippery Dick, waxing pugnacious, "Take the elephant fellow along, too – make him eat his words. Call my brother a thief, will he?"

"You'll do nothing of the kind," said his captor. "You're wanted here by the police."

"What!"

"Yes. For assault and battery, and disturbing the peace. They have arrested another man, a Mr. Scarsdale, by mistake in your place."

"I don't know anything about it. Never been here before to-night," protested the unregenerate one.

"Well, you must come along with me and give yourself up, or – ." But Carrington never finished the sentence; for at that moment he struck the ground very hard, and by the time he realised that Slippery Dick had tripped him, that personage had disappeared into the darkness, thus justifying his sobriquet.

Jack picked himself up and struggled through the hedge; but no one was in sight, and the dull, distant sound of flying feet seemed to indicate that the Consul's brother was seeking fresh fields and pastures new with uncommon celerity.