Her Ladyship's Elephant

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?"