Amusement Only

"My good man," said Cecil, fully believing that what he said was true, "you're drunk."

Just then a lady came down the staircase. He recognised her-recognised her well. He rushed towards her.

"Hetty!" he cried.

The lady gave a start, but not the sort of start he had reason, and good reason, to expect. She turned, she looked at him-with scornful eyes. She drew back, seeming to remove her very gown from any risk of personal contact.

"I half expected to see you at the station. Hetty, what-what's the matter?"

The lady said nothing, but she looked at him-and she walked away, her head held very high in the air.

"Now you've got to come out of this!" The porter who had followed him across the hall laid his hand upon his shoulder. Cecil swung round. And he not only swung round, but he swung the porter off, and that with a degree of vigour which possibly took that official by surprise.

"Remove your hand!" he cried.

There was a moment's pause, and during that moment's pause another lady came down the stairs. The bewildered Cecil rushed to her.

"Mrs. Danvers, has everybody gone mad? What is the matter with Hetty?" There was no mistake about it this time. The lady was so desirous that none of her garments should come into contact with Cecil that, the better to draw them away from him, she clutched her skirts with both her hands. She spoke-

"How dare you, sir, address yourself to me?" She turned to the porter with an air of command. "Desire this person to stand out of my way."

And she swept off, Cecil staring at her like a man in a dream.

"Well, sir?" Cecil turned. A decently-attired, and even gentlemanly, individual was standing at his side. "Have you returned to pay your bill?"

Cecil looked him up and down. In his appearance he noted no signs of insanity, nor of intoxication either.

"Are you the manager of this establishment?"

"You know very well that I am. Pray don't let's have any nonsense."

"Allow me to give you my card." Cecil handed him his "pasteboard." "I left Paris last night. I have been travelling all day. I arrived five minutes ago in your hotel. What is the meaning of the treatment which has been accorded me?"

The manager regarded him with a smile which scarcely came within the definition of a "courteous smile."

"You are certainly a character."

"Explain yourself."

"Surely not much explanation is required. It is only a few minutes ago since I informed you that your presence in this establishment could no longer be permitted, and now you favour me with this amazing story."

Cecil started forward. A new light came into his eyes.

"Has anyone been staying here resembling me?"

"So much resembling you that we shall be obliged if you will pay his bill, which lies, unpaid, on the cashier's desk."

Cecil gave an exclamation-not of pleasure.

"By Jove! It's Hubert! I see it all! He has been up to some of his infernal tricks with Hetty and her mother! If he has!" He turned upon the manager, "Where is he?"

The manager hesitated.

"Where is who? You are standing here. When I last saw you, you were entering a private sitting-room with two gentlemen who happened to have a particular desire for your society."

"Where is this sitting-room?"

"I will show you if you really don't know." The manager led the way-still smiling. Cecil went after him. As they moved along a corridor, into which the manager turned, they came upon a lady who was standing outside one of the sitting-rooms, and who, not to put too fine a point on it, seemed listening at the door. Her back was turned towards them as they advanced. It was only when they were quite close to her that she seemed to become conscious of their approach. When she arrived at such a state of consciousness she sprang up-she had been stooping a good deal forward before-and sprang round. She was in evening dress. A fine, tall, generously proportioned woman, with big bright eyes, and red-gold hair, she was Hubert's "oner" – "Angel." As her glance fell upon Cecil she gave a start-a most melodramatic start-so melodramatic a start that she bumped herself, quite unintentionally, but with considerable force, against the wall.

"You!" she exclaimed.

Cecil, on his part, appeared to recognise the lady.

"You!" he said-without any appearance of undue deference in his manner.

His arrival on the scene seemed to have thrown the lady into a state of really curious agitation. She stood with her back against the wall, staring at him as if he were a ghost. She positively trembled.

"How-how did you get out?" she asked-speaking in a sort of gasp.

"I was never in." Cecil turned to the manager. "It's a little complicated, but I think that I begin to understand the situation." He turned to the lady. He pointed to the sitting-room, outside which she was standing. "Who is in there?"

Angel did not answer. Leaning forward, she rapped with her knuckles against the panel of the door.

CHAPTER V

THE TWINS CONFRONT EACH OTHER

When there came that rapping at the door, Hubert started back.

"Who's that?" he cried.

The big man still retained his grasp on Hubert's shoulder. He tightened it.

"Never mind who it is. Sign that paper."

There was a voice without. "Open the door!"

Hubert slipped from the man's grasp. He sprang to his feet. He threw the pen from him on to the floor. "It's Cecil!"

The two men looked at him. He looked at them. Again there was the voice without. "Open the door!"

"It's Cecil! It's my brother! Now you will see if I lied."

In Hubert's manner there was positively something approaching an air of triumph. The associates exchanged glances. The big man addressed himself again to Hubert.

"Look here, my friend, you will sign that paper."

He moved a step forward. Hubert grasped the back of a chair.