ROGUES & COMPANY
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 CHILDREN OF STORM 
 TOWARDS MORNING 
 THE SHINING HEIGHTS 
 HOLY FIRE AND OTHER STORIES
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 BY 
 
 IDA A. R. WYLIE 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "CHILDREN OF STORM," "TOWARDS MORNING," 
 ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 JOHN LANE COMPANY 
 MCMXXI
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1921, 
 BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1921, 
 BY JOHN LANE COMPANY 
 
 Press of 
 
 J. J. Little & Ives Company 
 New York, U. S. A.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IT was a very curious and decidedly uncom- 
 fortable feeling, and though he had a dim idea 
 that he had felt it somewhere before, he could 
 remember nothing more definite about it. As a 
 matter of fact it was in itself nothing so very 
 unusual most people experience the same sen- 
 sations on waking up at dead of night in strange 
 quarters. On such occasions the victim grows hot 
 and feverish in the endeavour to locate the door 
 and window; he cannot remember who he is, 
 where he is or how he got there; he feels pain- 
 fully lost and helpless. Then, gradually, his fac- 
 ulties rub their eyes and arrange themselves, and 
 the fact that he is Jones, that he is spending the 
 week-end with the Smiths, and that the uncanny 
 apartment is nothing more terrible than their best 
 spare bed-room, dawns on him with comforting 
 completeness, and he turns over and resumes his 
 interrupted slumbers. 
 
 But in this case the experience was less pleasant 
 7
 
 8 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 in its development and considerably more original. 
 The more wide-awake he grew the less he knew 
 about himself. The more he said to himself, 
 "My dear fellow, pull yourself together it's only 
 a dream," the more obvious did it become that he 
 was sitting on the doorstep of an unknown house 
 in an unknown street, with aching limbs and an 
 aching head. Now such a combination of cir- 
 cumstances is not altogether unusual even in the 
 best society, and he sat and patiently waited for 
 an illuminating memory. But none came. If he 
 had, as he at first supposed, supped not wisely but 
 too well, where had he supped and with whom? 
 There was no answer to this natural question. 
 He shook himself. 
 
 "Oh, come now!" he said aloud. "Surely you 
 know your own name?" 
 
 Again no answer. Evidently it had been a big 
 business. When a man has to resort to his own 
 visiting card to find out who he is one may be for- 
 given for supposing that this self-forgetfulness is 
 something less than pure altruism. The man on 
 the doorstep resigned himself to necessity and put 
 his hand in his trouser pocket. Nothing. The 
 other trouser pocket was also empty likewise the 
 waistcoat pocket. This was disconcerting. What 
 was still more disconcerting was the hole in the 
 knee of his trousers as revealed by the light of a 
 street-lamp, and he thereupon made the discovery
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 9 
 
 that far from being in. evening-dress, as his condi- 
 tion suggested, he wore a check suit of vulgar type 
 and ancient lineage, and that he was cuffless and 
 collarless. All this was very surprising and pain- 
 ful. He addressed himself with severity. 
 
 "Really, my dear fellow, this won't do can't 
 sit out here all night, you know not done " 
 
 At this juncture Constable X. of the D. Divi- 
 sion loomed upon the horizon. Constable X. car- 
 ried a lantern and was evidently on the lookout 
 for burglars and other miscreants, for he did not 
 notice the man on the doorstep until he had stum- 
 bled over his legs. What the Constable said is 
 irrelevant. The man on the doorstep apologised 
 profusely. 
 
 "I'm sure I'm extremely sorry," he said. His 
 own prompt politeness led him at once to the con- 
 clusion that his station' in life must be something 
 between a shop-walker and a gentleman, but this 
 opinion was apparently not shared by his victim. 
 Constable X. flashed his lantern onto the doorstep 
 and gave vent to a snort of mingled triumph and 
 indignation. 
 
 "At it again! Eh?" he said. "Got you this 
 time, have I?" 
 
 "It looks like it," his prisoner admitted. 
 "Were you looking for me?" 
 
 "Now then, none of your tongue, young fel- 
 low! Wot d'yer mean?"
 
 10 
 
 "I mean," said the man on the doorstep cour- 
 teously, "that it would be a great relief to me to 
 know that someone was looking for me even a 
 policeman. The fact is, you know I'm lost." 
 
 "Oh, so you're lost, are you?" The Constable 
 laughed with the rudeness which is born of a shat- 
 tered trust in human nature. "Sort of lost dog, 
 eh?" 
 
 "The designation will do until I find a better 
 one," returned the other, wearily. "But I doubt 
 if even the Dog's Home will take me in. What 
 am I to do?" 
 
 "Move onl" said the Constable, from sheer 
 force of habit. 
 
 "But I can't keep on 'moving on' indefinitely." 
 
 The Constable scratched his head. 
 
 "You'd better come along with me," he said. 
 
 "Might I ask whither?" 
 
 "Lock-up," was the laconic answer. 
 
 "But I haven't done anything." 
 
 "Can't be so sure of that and anyhow, you're 
 sitting on someone else's doorstep." 
 
 "You don't know that it is someone else's door- 
 step. It might be mine." 
 
 "It might but it don't look like it." 
 
 "You infer," his captive suggested, "that I do 
 not give you the impression of being a landed 
 proprietor?" 
 
 "Can't say as you do," Constable X. admitted
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY n 
 
 frankly. "You gives me the impression of being 
 a very common sort of night-bird." 
 
 The man on the doorstep shook his head. 
 
 "You judge too hastily," he protested. "If I 
 am, as you suggest, a night-bird, I have none the 
 less the feeling that I may turn out to be one of 
 nature's gentlemen. Now, look here !" He rose 
 stiffly and painfully and conducted the doubting 
 Constable to the lamp. "What do you make of 
 that!" he enquired triumphantly. He extended 
 his two hands. Constable X. considered them 
 with his head cocked astutely on one side. 
 
 "Cleanish," he said. "Uncommon cleanish." 
 
 "Sergeant, you are a man of perception. Now, 
 glance over me. Do not let yourself be led astray 
 by the vulgarity of my costume. Consider my 
 face, my manner and my speech. What do you 
 think of me?" 
 
 "Well, you might be a sort of gent," Constable 
 X. admitted. 
 
 "Inspector " the young man began. 
 
 "Not yet, sir " Constable X. protested with a 
 touch of coyness. 
 
 "Never mind, you ought to be an inspector, 
 even if you aren't. I was judging you as you 
 judged me by deserts. I feel that I ought to be 
 a gentleman, I'm sure you ought to be an inspec- 
 tor. But the trouble with me is that I don't know 
 who or what I am."
 
 .12 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Drunk," suggested the inspector in embryo, 
 consolingly. 
 
 "I may have been in the past but I am cer- 
 tainly sober now." 
 
 "Yes, you talks clear enough. Got a wishing 
 card on you?" 
 
 "If I had, frhe matter would be simplified. My 
 pockets are as empty as my head." 
 
 The Constable's smile was unflattering. 
 
 "Can't you remember anythink?" he appealed. 
 
 "Not a thing. I've been trying for the last 
 half-hour. What's to be done? I can't stay on 
 the streets all night and as far as I know I haven't 
 any claim on any charitable institution." 
 
 Constable X. rubbed his chin. 
 
 "It's a case of lost memory," he announced sol- 
 emnly. "I've 'eard of it before. I knew of an 
 old lady who wandered over 'alf London before 
 they found out that she was a duchess' It was a 
 big thing for the man who found 'er." 
 
 "Nothing like so big as it would be for you if 
 you found I was a duke," interposed the lost one 
 generously. "If I am a duke solvent of course 
 I shall raise you to a position of affluency. I 
 swear it by my ancestors supposing I have any." 
 
 Constable X. touched his helmet. 
 
 "Thank you, sir," he said with considerably 
 more respect. "It's a case for the doctors 
 that's wot it is," he went on thoughtfully, "wot
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 13 
 
 they calls a specialist. The duchess was queer in 
 her upper storey senile decay, as they called it." 
 
 "Good heavens, I'm not as old as that, am I?" 
 
 " 'Tain't always age that does it," Constable X. 
 returned, with a grave and significant shake of the 
 head. "There's decays and decays. You've got 
 'em young that's all." 
 
 "Suppose we find the doctor?" suggested the 
 young man hastily. 
 
 "You're sitting on 'is doorstep." 
 
 The prospective patient examined the door- 
 plate. 
 
 "Mr. Smedley," he read aloud, "veterinary sur- 
 geon. Look here, Inspector, that won't do. I'm 
 not an animal." 
 
 "You said you was a lost dog," retorted the 
 Constable, with grim delight in his own jest. 
 "Well, anyhow, there's a Doctor Thingummy 
 round the corner. I calls 'im Thingummy be- 
 cause 'e 'as a foreign name, and I don't 'old with 
 foreign names. Not since that there war. I 
 up' olds the Law myself, but wot I says is, 'When 
 an Englishman sees a foreigner he ort ter bash 
 'im in the eye,' I don't care who he is- " 
 
 "Well, perhaps Dr. Thingumitvy only sounds 
 foreign," the young man suggested. "Anyhow, 
 we'll give him a call. What time is it?" 
 
 "About midnight." 
 
 "In that case," the young man reflected, "I
 
 14 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 fancy that we shall be the bashed ones bashed 
 and abashed, you know." He chuckled encour- 
 agingly, but his companion remained unmoved. 
 "However, anything is better than the lock-up and 
 the cold stone of IVL-. Smedley's steps. Lead on, 
 Macduff." 
 
 "Look here, young feller, if you start calling 
 names " 
 
 "I'm not. I'm quoting. I can't remember 
 what from Bible probably. Anyhow, absolutely 
 respectable. Wouldn't insult you for the world. 
 Why " he exclaimed with a rush of pathos 
 "you may be my only friend, Constable." 
 
 "Well, mind out. It's as likely as not you're 
 under arrest, in which case anything you say will 
 be taken down against you." 
 
 "But I'm not a criminal." 
 
 "Can't be sure. You couldn't swear to it your- 
 self." 
 
 "Well, I don't look like one at least I don't 
 feel like one." 
 
 Constable X. shook his head gloomily. 
 
 "Can't go by that. If you knew wot I knew 
 about criminals, you'd be surprised. There was a 
 feller a nice upstanding chap, as pleasant spoken 
 as you please murdered his wife, he did. 'Why, 
 Constable,' he said to me going up to the dock, 'I 
 wouldn't 'urt a kitten.' And I believed 'im. But 
 'is wife she got on 'is nerves she was always a
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 15 
 
 hummin' tunes to 'erself, and the more he asked 
 'er not the more she did it. And one day> right 
 in the middle of 'Annie Laurie/ he ups and 'its 
 'er over the 'ead with 'is beer-mug. Must 'ave 
 caught 'er on 'er soft spot, for she never 'ummed 
 again. But 'e swung for it, poor chap, though 
 the jury did put in extenuating circumstances. 
 No, sir, you believe me, you can't be sure of any- 
 one in this life least of all yourself." 
 
 The young man put his hand to his forehead. 
 
 "Constable, I'm a sick man. You don't want 
 me to faint, do you?" 
 
 "I'm only doing my dooty, sir. Bound to warn 
 you" 
 
 "I know you mean it kindly," the young man 
 admitted humbly. "But it's all very uncomfort- 
 able." 
 
 That much, at any rate, was becoming certain. 
 For the first few minutes his position had struck 
 him as entirely humorous. He had expected 
 each minute to bring the desired flash of illumina- 
 tion, but his mind had remained blank, and the 
 pain at the back of his head was becoming trou- 
 blesomely insistent. Who and what was he ? He 
 decided that it was a great deal worse than being 
 born again, because of the additional unpleasant- 
 ness of knowing beforehand all the awful condi- 
 tions into which one might be flung by a reckless 
 and indiscriminating Fate. He might be a Duke
 
 1 6 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 he hoped he was but he felt his appearance 
 was against him. He might be what his clothes 
 suggested, which was intolerable. He might be 
 married, and his wife might be At this point 
 the possibilities nearly overcame him, and he was 
 thankful for the tonic effect of the Constable's 
 grip upon his arm. 
 
 "Hear that, sir?" 
 
 "Sounds like someone running," the derelict ad- 
 mitted. "Someone looking for me, no doubt " 
 
 The next instant an extraordinary apparition 
 tore round the corner of the street and was re- 
 ceived full in Constable X.'s genially outstretched 
 arms. The constable rose to the situation with 
 the same sangfroid that he had displayed earlier 
 in the evening. 
 
 "So there you are I" he said. "Got you, 
 'avel?" 
 
 His capture showed no intelligent appreciation 
 of the Constable's smartness. He broke into an 
 incoherent torrent of bad language and, disengag- 
 ing himself with a dexterous twist, revealed him- 
 self as a little dark man, of marked Hebraic de- 
 scent, in a dressing-gown, bed-room slippers and 
 an ungovernable temper. 
 
 "You jackass never anywhere where you're 
 wanted deaf as a door-post didn't you hear my 
 whistle? What's the good of whistling if you 
 don't listen? My house broken into all my
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 17 
 
 silver gone and you stand there like a like 
 a <" He ran his fingers through his long black 
 hair till it stood straight on end, adding a com- 
 ically devilish touch to his unusual appearance. 
 "My God this country 1" he exclaimed finally, as 
 though overwhelmed by some culminating griev- 
 ance. "My God !" ' 
 
 "Now don't you go getting abusive," the Con- 
 stable warned him coldly. "If you've 'ad bur- 
 glars, we'll see after 'em all in good time." Then 
 with a wink at his first captive, he remarked in a 
 stage whisper ''That's 'im!" 
 
 This cryptic observation drew the new-comer's 
 attention to the presence of a third person. He 
 swung round and stared at the young man with 
 his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his dress- 
 ing-gown. 
 
 "So you did catch him. Your prisoner, eh?" 
 
 Constable X. scratched his chin. 
 
 "'E is and 'e isn't," he explained. " 'E's 
 mad." 
 
 The doctor's manner changed instantly. He 
 drew out a pair of tortoise-shell-rimmed spec- 
 tacles, adjusted them on the bridge of his thick 
 nose and considered the young man with a dis- 
 passionate interest, which seemed as out of place 
 as the purple dressing-gown. 
 
 "Mad?" he said. "Rubbish. What does an
 
 1 8 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 idiot like you know about madness? Don't talk 
 nonsense." 
 
 "Thank you," the young man interjected 
 warmly. "I felt sure that our friend here had 
 overstated my case. I'm not exactly mad at 
 least, I hope not. But I don't know who I am. 
 In fact, I've lost my memory " 
 
 "Rubbish! There isn't such a thing. You 
 can't lose your memory. You can hide it, you can 
 suppress it, you can put it away and turn a key 
 on it, but you can't lose it. If I told you what I 
 knew about memory, I should be standing here till 
 to-morrow morning and then you wouldn't have 
 understood half I said. But though you express 
 yourself inaccurately, I recognise your condition. 
 It is not uncommon, but, to a certain degree, it is 
 interesting " 
 
 " and uncomfortable." 
 
 "Possibly for you. That" he wagged a 
 long reproving finger in the young man's face 
 "that, sir, is where the scientific and the untrained 
 mind differ. You are concerned with trivial per- 
 sonalities, I with large issues, with cause and effect 
 and the relation of one phenomenon to another. 
 You, frankly, consider your identity as the main 
 consideration. To me it is not of the slightest 
 importance. How long have you been in this 
 state?"
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 19 
 
 "I don't know. The Constable here found me 
 on a doorstep about half an hour ago." 
 
 "Very brilliant of him. And you have nothing 
 on your person no obvious clue " 
 
 "Nothing. I haven't even a brass-farthing. 
 That's what's worrying me chiefly. You see, 
 doctor " 
 
 "Frohlocken, psycho-analyst," the doctor inter- 
 rupted with a slight bow. 
 
 "Thank you. I'm sorry that for obvious rea- 
 sons I cannot introduce myself. Well, doctor, I 
 want your help, but as I've already mentioned I 
 am penniless and for all I know I may remain so 
 and I feel" 
 
 "That," said the doctor, "is a second illustra- 
 tion of my point. In the very midst of what no 
 doubt to you seems a catastrophe, your mind turns 
 to money. What in God's name do you suppose 
 I care about your money? You interest me. 
 Microbes interest me. Do you think I request 
 a newly discovered germ to pay me consulting 
 fees? Don't be a fool." 
 
 The young man smiled ruefully. 
 
 "Well, thank Heaven I've got a value even if 
 I haven't got an identity," he said. "May I 
 count then upon your assistance? Without it I'm 
 afraid I shall have to accompany our friend here 
 to the police-station. It's the only invitation I've 
 had so far "
 
 20 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 The doctor's answer was to take the young man 
 by the arm and lead him by long, unhurried strides 
 down the street whence he had come. Burglars, 
 policemen, and stolen silver alike seemed to have 
 been swept from his memory. But Constable X., 
 not to be forgotten, ponderously brought up the 
 rear. Five houses down the trio came upon an 
 open door, at the moment blocked by a small 
 crowd of excited domestics, scantily attired and 
 armed with pokers, who welcomed their appear- 
 ance with a murmur of triumph. The young man 
 held back. 
 
 "Obviously they take me for your burglar," he 
 said. "It would be perhaps better if you ex- 
 plained " 
 
 "Rubbish," said the doctor firmly. He bustled 
 his patient up the steps, and a person whom the 
 latter judged by his waistcoat to be a butler the 
 rest of his costume was unrecognisable made a 
 fierce clutch at the supposed captive. Dr. Froh- 
 locken warded off the attack with a sweep of the 
 arm. 
 
 "Don't be a fool, James! You've done enough 
 stupid things for one evening. Go to bed, the lot 
 of you. This gentleman is my patient. Come 
 in, sir, come in." 
 
 "Look 'ere," said Constable X. from the door- 
 step. 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken looked.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 21 
 
 "Well? What at?" 
 
 "Look 'ere," the Law repeated undeterred, 
 "that's my man, if you don't mind, sir." 
 
 "Your man? Is this a slave-country? What 
 right have you to call him your man?" 
 
 A shadow of bitter disappointment stole over 
 the Constable's round red face. 
 
 "I found 'im," he said. 
 
 "Suppose you did? What do you want to do 
 with him? Take him to the Lost Property Office 
 as though he were an umbrella? My God and 
 you call this a civilised country? Go away with 
 you" 
 
 "Well, wot about them burglars and the silver 
 wot they took?" Constable X. persisted dog- 
 gedly. 
 
 The doctor pressed his finger to his nose. 
 
 "Damn your burglars and your silver too," he 
 said. He slammed the door in the aggrieved 
 face. "That," he said, "is the lowest example 
 of the type of mind that governs this unfortunate 
 country. Entirely concerned with obvious and 
 insignificant trivialities. Utterly untrained. But 
 for me he would actually have taken you to the 
 police-station, God knows what damage they 
 would have done between them. As it is, there 
 is every reason to hope " 
 
 " that I shall remember, you mean?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken shrugged his sloping shoulders.
 
 22 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "My dear sir, you have not forgotten. For 
 reasons of which we are at present ignorant you 
 are hiding your identity in your subconscious 
 mind. When we have discovered and removed 
 the cause of your action you will, as you would 
 inaccurately express it, recover your memory. 
 That is the whole business in a nutshell. In the 
 meantime you must sleep. You have had some 
 mental shock. You are suffering from a severe 
 nervous strain " 
 
 "I feel," the young man interrupted, u as 
 though someone had hit me over the head with 
 a brick-bat " 
 
 "An illusionary sensation, no doubt, an effort 
 of the mind to give a misleading cause for your 
 condition. I have several similar cases on my 
 hands. Yours indeed is the seventh. You won't 
 object to my calling you No. 7, I hope? It will 
 simplify matters, and for the moment you will 
 find it a relief yourself to be something definite." 
 
 "Thank you," said the young man. "I feel 
 that already. When I start worrying I shall 
 say, 'That's all right. You're Dr. Frohlocken's 
 No. 7.' I daresay it's quite as good as my own 
 name." 
 
 "Better, no doubt," the doctor agreed. 
 
 He opened a side-door and led the way into a 
 plainly yet comfortably furnished room. A sofa 
 was drawn up invitingly to the still glowing fire.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 23 
 
 The walls were lined with books and shelves on 
 which reposed glass cases and jars full of a yel- 
 lowish liquid in which floated repellant lumps of 
 grey matter. Dr. Frohlocken indicated one of 
 these in passing. 
 
 "My first patient. Sir Augustus Smythe. Suf- 
 fered from delusions, poor fellow. Fancied that 
 water was poison to him. The fossil who called 
 himself the family doctor talked about tumours 
 on the brain and hereditary dipsomania and God 
 knows what rubbish. The poor fellow came to 
 me in desperation. I was just getting at the real 
 trouble a simple matter of a suppressed com- 
 plex in connection with a stepmother whom he 
 disliked in early youth when the poor fellow 
 died. Yes, delirium tremens. Very disappoint- 
 ing case. The wife presented me with a portion 
 of his bra-in as a sign of gratitude. No tumour, 
 of course. Utter rubbish. You can see for your- 
 self." 
 
 "Thank you," said No. 7. "To-morrow per- 
 haps" 
 
 "Certainly. I am merely diverting your mind 
 from your own troubles. Now if you will lie 
 down I will cover you over with a rug and in five 
 minutes you will be asleep." 
 
 "I'm afraid not," No. 7 objected. "I feel hor- 
 ribly awake and my head hurts." 
 
 He stopped, aware that Dr. Frohlocken was
 
 24 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 not listening. It was further borne in upon him 
 that as a personality he had no real existence in 
 the latter's eyes and that he was there simply as 
 a disease which hadn't the ghost of a chance of 
 survival. Already he felt the hopelessness of re- 
 sistance. He was to lie down and go to sleep. 
 He lay down and he had a rather horrible sus- 
 picion that he was already sleepy. The firelight 
 was growing dim. His bottled predecessors faded 
 from their shelves. There seemed to be nothing 
 definite but the dark, unsmiling face with the black 
 eyes staring at him through enormous aureoles of 
 tortoise-shell. They grew larger and larger. 
 They seemed to be swallowing him up bit by bit. 
 And his head with its aches and anxieties was the 
 first to go. 
 
 "I suppose even a microbe may be grate- 
 ful " No. 7 murmured. 
 
 "In five minutes " Dr. Frohlocken said. 
 
 He laid his hand on No. 7 and pushed him 
 gently into darkness.
 
 THE wintry morning sunshine had already be- 
 gun to show through the window when the butler 
 tiptoed into the library. He carried a laden 
 breakfast-tray which he placed quietly on the ta- 
 ble beside the sofa and then stood gazing severely 
 at the man who lay there asleep. Once or twice 
 he shook his head with that expression of aloof 
 disparagement peculiar to his class, then, warned 
 by a faint flutter of the sleeper's eyelids, he began 
 a discreet but busy clatter with the tea-things. 
 
 The man on the sofa stretched himself and 
 yawned. 
 
 "Morning!" he said sleepily. 
 
 The butler apparently did not hear the greeting 
 and No. 7 opened his eyes wide. He looked 
 about him and his expression of peaceful content 
 gave place to one of disappointment. He rubbed 
 his hand over his dark head and sighed. 
 
 "I'm just where I was before," he said. 
 
 "Yes sir," said the butler. The "sir" came 
 with an effort, but it came. No. 7 drew himself 
 up and received his cup with resignation. 
 
 "Well, I suppose it can't be helped," he said. 
 "I really hoped I'd sleep it off though. By the 
 
 25
 
 26 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 way, you had rather a disturbed night yourself, 
 didn't you?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Did you see your nocturnal visitor?" No. 7 
 enquired with gracious interest. 
 
 "I did, sir." 
 
 There was something about the man's manner 
 which was distinctly unsatisfactory. It implied 
 unutterable things. In its self-contained way it 
 was inimical. And No. 7, in his lonely friend- 
 less state could not bear it. Moreover he was 
 under the necessity of proving to himself that he 
 had handled butlers before. He held the man 
 under a steady eye. 
 
 "If you saw him," he said, "then I suppose you 
 could easily identify him?" The butler handed 
 the toast. 
 
 "I'm afraid not, sir. He wore a mask." 
 
 "But you saw his dress and figure?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. He was about your size, sir, and 
 his clothes were checked as far as I could see 
 a sort of dirty brown colour." 
 
 "Oh !" No. 7 drew his rug up to his chin. But 
 he knew by the slant of the butler's eye that he 
 had seen and he suspected the description to have 
 been a piece of pure malice. "Scarcely enough 
 for purposes of identification," he observed. 
 
 The butler passed *he butter. His features 
 were expressionless.
 
 27 
 
 "No, sir, I suppose not." 
 
 This was no better. No. 7 felt thwarted. He 
 put his hand to his collar with a movement that 
 seemed habitual. It was disconcerting to find 
 that the collar was missing. 
 
 "Any clue been found?" he asked, to cover his 
 confusion. 
 
 "No, sir but the silver." 
 
 "Oh indeed?" 
 
 "Yes, sir down an area." 
 
 "Very fortunate." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 By this time the butler had finished his arrange- 
 ments and placed the morning-paper on the table. 
 
 "You'll find an account of it all in there, sir," 
 he said. 
 
 "What already?" 
 
 "There was a journalist fellow here last night, 
 sir. He seemed to know more about it all than 
 anyone." The butler's face lit up with a flash 
 of bitter humour which made him seem more hu- 
 man. No. 7 felt encouraged. Perhaps, after 
 all, they might be friends. It was a case for a 
 discreet mixture of tact and frankness. 
 
 "By the way, what's your name?" he asked 
 graciously as the butler reached the door. 
 
 "James, sir." 
 
 "Well, James, I think it better to inform you 
 my reason for being here. In this eh un-
 
 28 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 usual state. I am Dr. Frohlocken's patient 
 nervous shock, you know, followed by complete 
 loss of memory." 
 
 "Very good, sir." 
 
 The butler's tone suggested a discreet accept- 
 ance of a more than doubtful explanation, and 
 as the door closed No. 7 sank back among his 
 cushions. He had excused himself. And there 
 was a beastly French adage about people who ex- 
 cused themselves, even he could remember that. 
 Besides, it was evident that in good society one 
 does not explain things even the most extraor- 
 dinary to the butler. His belief in himself be- 
 gan to fade. 
 
 More to change the unpleasant trend of his 
 thoughts than out of real interest he took up the 
 paper and opened it. Judging from the first sheet 
 which was black with startling headings, Dr. 
 Frohlocken liked his news served up in a well- 
 spiced form. Sandwiched between a horrible 
 murder and the latest society scandal, the patient 
 discovered "a daring burglary heroic conduct of 
 a butler" which he recognized at once as the one 
 in which Dr. Frohlocken's silver had been so 
 closely concerned. The account ran as follows: 
 
 "Last night, at about twelve o'clock, the house 
 of the well-known specialist, Dr. Frohlocken, was 
 broken into and a considerable quantity of val-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 29 
 
 uable silver stolen before one of the servants, 
 roused by the suspicious noise, gave the alarm. 
 Great courage and presence of mind was displayed 
 by the butler who pluckily attacked the intruder. 
 The latter however succeeded in making good his 
 escape. At the time of going to press no trace 
 of him had been found. The police believe, 
 judging from the manner in which the robbery 
 was carried out, that the burglar and the noto- 
 rious William Brown, alias Slippery Bill, are 
 identical. It will be remembered that Brown has 
 been connected with the most cunning and daring 
 swindles and burglaries, but his capture has been 
 made extremely difficult by the fact that only his 
 most intimate accomplices know what he really 
 looks like. His disguises are as many as they are 
 complete. Thanks to a gentlemanly appearance 
 and manner, he has imposed upon his victims as a 
 millionaire, nobleman, clergyman, as well as other 
 less distinguished persons, and many legends are 
 told concerning his cunning. A former accom- 
 plice, who turned King's evidence in the last case, 
 gave evidence that Brown always carried a small 
 charm fastened to the inside of his coat which 
 served both as a luck-bringer and a means of re- 
 vealing himself to his accomplices. This charm, 
 a small gold pig, popularly known as a lucky pig, 
 should prove useful as a mark of identity when the
 
 30 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 time comes, but for the present the owner has dis- 
 appeared with his usual completeness." 
 
 Here followed further details concerning "Slip- 
 pery Bill's" career which were not sufficiently inter- 
 esting to attract the reader's thoughts from him- 
 self. The mere word "identity" had awakened in 
 him the recollection of his own unhappy state, and 
 he fell back with a sigh of despair. This Smith, 
 this rogue had an identity and he had none not 
 even a bad one. To all intents and purposes he 
 was nothing but a mere derelict on a wide, un- 
 known sea, without flag, without helm, without 
 anchor. It was very tragic, very pathetic, and his 
 imagination, taking the bit between his teeth, car- 
 ried him into scenes both probable and improb- 
 able. He imagined in turn an adoring mother, 
 an adoring bride, an adoring wife, waiting in vain 
 for the son or, respectively, the fiance or husband 
 who never returned. He came to the conclusion 
 that he must be an affectionate and tender-hearted 
 man, for he felt profoundly moved at the thought 
 of the possible pain he might be inflicting. He 
 grew desperate. Was there no means of unrav- 
 elling the mystery which surrounded his life, noth- 
 ing about him which might awaken memory or 
 give some clue as to his previous existence? 
 
 With a quick glance round the room, to make 
 sure that James was not watching, he threw off
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 31 
 
 the big rug and examined himself from head to 
 foot. The result was not gratifying. His boots 
 were shapeless and ill-fitting and the same could 
 be said of his trousers, which, what with their 
 pattern and the recent rent in the knee, were the 
 last thing in disreputableness. Anxiously, he 
 plunged his hands first into one pocket and then 
 into another, but without any better result than 
 on the first occasion. They were perfectly empty. 
 He patted the side-pocket, the waistcoat noth- 
 ing. His hand glided over the breast and there 
 stopped suddenly as though it had been seized by 
 a vise. Half paralysed he withdrew his hand 
 and looked at it. Then his jaw dropped. There, 
 between finger and thumb, was a small golden 
 object a ridiculous thing with a minute curly- 
 tail and impossible eyes and a slight but ghastly 
 resemblance to a pig. No. 7 lurched to his feet. 
 He staggered to the looking-glass. He saw there 
 a pleasant and even good-looking young man with 
 a short dark moustache and eyes which in a nor- 
 mal state must have been both humorous and 
 frank. At that moment, however, they were wide 
 open with an expression of almost delirious con- 
 sternation. No. 7 raised a trembling hand to his 
 moustache and tugged it vigorously. The result 
 proved it genuine. He tweaked the dark, disor- 
 dered hair no wig revealed itself. He groaned 
 aloud. This then was William Brown this was
 
 32 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 the real man. He was neither a duke nor a mil- 
 lionaire nor even a respectable loafer but a no- 
 torious swindler, a thief, a rogue. He had stolen 
 the silver of his own host, had preyed upon the 
 weakness and credulity of his fellow-creatures. 
 He was called "Slippery Bill." The last horrible 
 item weighed more upon him than all the others 
 put together. If it had been "Roving Robert" 
 or "Daring Dick," he would have borne it better; 
 but "Slippery Bill" lacked the commonest element 
 of romance as completely as did William Brown. 
 Both names were vulgar as vulgar as his clothes, 
 and one, at least, sounded as disreputable as his 
 past reputation. He looked at the terrible dis- 
 covery lying in the palm of his hand. It seemed 
 to him that the beady eyes twinkled and that there 
 was something malicious and insulting in the twist 
 of the curly tail. Visions of rejoicing mothers 
 and brides and wives vanished. He saw himself 
 in the dock sentenced for offences he couldn't 
 even remember; he saw himself "doing time"; he 
 heard the tread of approaching footsteps the 
 footsteps of an avenging Nemesis; he heard the 
 door open. Involuntarily he turned, prepared to 
 face the worst, the perspiration breaking out in 
 great beads upon his forehead. But it was only 
 Dr. Frohlocken who gazed at him with a grim 
 displeasure. 
 
 "You've been thinking about yourself," he said
 
 33 
 
 crossly. "I told you not to. But I was not in 
 form. It shows how the most disciplined brain 
 can become unbalanced. At any rate you slept 
 well?" 
 
 "Excellently." 
 
 "Did you dream?" 
 
 "Not a thing." 
 
 "Rubbish. However, it's no use expecting any- 
 thing from a mind that has not learnt to contem- 
 plate itself dispassionately. Sit down." 
 
 No. 7 sat down. He tried to do so with an 
 air of independence, but his recently acquired 
 knowledge had cowed him to such an extent that 
 he would have stood on his head with equal docil- 
 ity. Dr. Frohlocken sat down opposite him. 
 Except that the lurid dressing-gown had given 
 place to an old-fashioned frock-coat, his appear- 
 ance had not changed. His black hair still stood 
 on end and, for some reason or other, he was still 
 in a very bad temper. After a moment's intense 
 silence, during which he stared at his patient un- 
 blinkingly, he produced a newspaper which he 
 spread out over his knees, keeping his long finger 
 on a particular paragraph and referring to it 
 constantly throughout the interview. 
 
 It was a situation calculated to try the strong- 
 est nerves. The self-discovered William Brown 
 could only set his teeth and endeavour to bear 
 himself to some extent as became a man of his
 
 34 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 reputation. Highwaymen, he remembered, went 
 to the gallows with a jest. Slippery Bill should 
 at least not cringe openly. 
 
 "I suppose you still want to know who you 
 are?" Dr. Frohlocken began at length. "I pre- 
 sume, judging from my observation of ordinary 
 mentality, that you would prefer to be recognised, 
 externally, if I may so express myself. The 
 desire to get to the top of a mountain without 
 climbing it is one of the most discouraging 
 symptoms of our times " 
 
 "If you mean," William Brown interrupted, 
 "that I want you to find out who I am, really I 
 can't say that I do. You see, I've been thinking 
 it over. After all, you know, it's rather an in- 
 teresting experiment this starting all over again. 
 Who knows perhaps I shan't like my old self 
 at all." 
 
 "That," said Dr. Frohlocken, referring discon- 
 certingly to the paragraph, "is extremely likely. 
 However, the matter is not in our hands. I fore- 
 see that interfering busybodies will make a rea- 
 sonable and logical process in this matter impos- 
 sible. In other words, No. 7, I fear that you are 
 already discovered." 
 
 No. 7 felt for a pocket-handkerchief that was 
 not there. 
 
 "It's not cricket," he said, with passion. "I 
 don't see why I should have a personality thrust
 
 35 
 
 upon me that I don't recognise. I repudiate it. 
 Why, I don't remember a thing the fellow did. 
 I might disapprove horribly and yet / should be 
 blamed. / should be held responsible " 
 
 "Exactly." For the first time Dr. Frohlocken 
 looked at him with approval. "I see that you 
 have some glimmerings of my own idea. It's 
 childish to start at the end. The only sensible 
 method is for you to return to your normal con- 
 sciousness by normal means. That was what I 
 had intended. Unfortunately it is a delicate and 
 lengthy process and the time at our disposal is 
 very limited. The best that I can do for you is to 
 set you on the road. Are you prepared to an- 
 swer my questions fully and frankly?" 
 
 "But," said William Brown bitterly, "I tell 
 you I don't remember it's not fair." 
 
 "One moment. You say that you do not re- 
 member. Yet if I asked you to tell me some of 
 the dreams you have dreamed in your other life 
 you will no doubt be able to furnish me with sev- 
 eral examples. Come now!" 
 
 This seemed innocent enough. Dreams were 
 idiotic things. No one could be held responsible 
 for them. And it certainly was odd that he did 
 remember 
 
 "Well, of course I suppose I dreamed the 
 usual stuff the kind of thing everybody dreams." 
 
 "As, for instance "
 
 36 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Well, walking down Bond Street in one's 
 pyjamas " 
 
 "As you say common quite common " 
 
 "Falling over precipices chased by locomo- 
 tives climbing spiral staircases " 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken glanced up over his glasses. 
 
 "I might suggest," he said, "that in these days 
 it is not wise to relate one's dreams in public. 
 But that is quite by the way. Is there nothing 
 significant or outstanding that you can remem- 
 ber?" 
 
 "Nothing," said William Brown firmly. 
 
 "Then allow me to test your reactions." He 
 took a very modern watch from his old-fashioned 
 waist-coat pocket and set it on his knee. "I shall 
 give you a string of words and I wish you to re- 
 spond promptly with whatever they suggest to 
 you. For example "Drink?" 
 
 "Whisky." 
 
 "You see. You get the idea. Butter?" 
 
 "Margarine." 
 
 "Meat?" 
 
 "Coupons." 
 
 "Locks?" 
 
 William Brown faltered "Lock-up" and 
 "prison" had suggested themselves instantly. He 
 suppressed them. Dr. Frohlocken was obviously 
 counting the seconds. He plunged 
 
 "Safes."
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 37 
 
 "Sea?" 
 
 "America." 
 
 "Career?" 
 
 "Criminal " This would not do at all. He 
 felt he had been trapped led into a bog in which 
 he was slithering hopelessly. 
 
 "Pig," said Dr. Frohlocken unexpectedly. 
 
 Thereat William Brown's mind simply refused 
 to function. It stopped dead. He sat there with 
 his mouth open, the perspiration gathering on his 
 forehead, whilst Dr. Frohlocken counted the sec- 
 onds. It was devilish. There were Heaven 
 knew how many thousand words in the English 
 language. Not one of them came to him. But 
 before his glazing eyes a monstrous thing had be- 
 gun to shape itself a golden horror with beady 
 staring eyes and a grotesque tail 
 
 "A distinct result," Dr. Frohlocken was saying 
 gleefully; "in the short space of five minutes we 
 have touched on two definite suppressions. I 
 have not the slightest doubt No. 7 " 
 
 His voice faded. William Brown heard a tele- 
 phone clanging in the distance. Ever afterwards 
 he believed that he fainted, for he remembered 
 nothing further until a hand was laid on his 
 shoulder with a galvanising horrible familiarity. 
 
 "It's as I feared," Dr. Frohlocken said. 
 "Thanks to that damn Constable, they're on your 
 track already. I'm sorry. I would like to have
 
 38 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 prepared you better. You will now have to en- 
 dure the methods of ordinary unscientific investi- 
 gation. The best I can do for you is to see that 
 you meet this fellow in a more presentable condi- 
 tion. If you go into the next room, you will find 
 a bath prepared and a change of clothes. No, 
 they are not my clothes. They belonged to my 
 last patient. Threw himself out of the window, 
 poor fellow. In your terminology, he'd lost his 
 memory for five years. Oh, yes, he was cured. 
 Wonderful case. But when he recognised his 
 family he killed himself. Very sad. However, 
 I think they'll fit you " 
 
 No. 7 held his ground. He was aware of a 
 horrible internal upheaval. Something enormous 
 was happening to him. Out of the depths, as it 
 were, Slippery showed himself for the first time. 
 He leered. He whispered. He nudged. 
 
 "You're caught, old bird. Of course he knows 
 who you are. He's sent for the police. Bash 
 him over the head and make a bolt for it. It's 
 your only chance " 
 
 "I can't," No. 7 argued desperately. "It isn't 
 fair. I've stolen his silver, I've abused his hos- 
 pitality, but there is a limit " 
 
 "Stow it, old bird. You're a scoundrel and you 
 know it. None of that pi'-stuff " 
 
 Physically he swayed before the storm. Dr. 
 Frohlocken took him kindly by the arm.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 39 
 
 "When you are ready," he said, "I shall have 
 further news for you. Mind you, I disapprove 
 entirely. I consider the whole business outra- 
 geous. I told them so. It's that damn Con- 
 stable. When a reward of 1000 is offered you 
 can't expect an intellect like that to worjt scien- 
 tifically. In fact I doubt if that Constable has an 
 intellect at all probably he is a mere instinct. 
 Anyhow, there it is. I can only hope that their 
 methods will not be too much of a shock to you." 
 
 "That's the sort of sense of fun he's got," 
 Slippery Bill urged, insidiously. "Guying you, 
 that's what he is. Give him one on the bean." 
 
 The advice was obviously sound. That No. 7 
 did not follow it, but slunk tamely into the bath- 
 room, was due to the fact that he was hopelessly 
 handicapped. He might be otherwise a scoun- 
 drel, but he had become a scoundrel with a con- 
 science. It was an impossible situation. True, 
 his better-half enjoyed the bath, but the realisa- 
 tion that he had the instincts and even the appear- 
 ance of a gentleman Dr. Frohlocken's late pa- 
 tient must have had an excellent taste in suiting, 
 and the glass revealed an agreeable young man 
 with that correct bearing which is erroneously 
 supposed to go with a blameless life did not re- 
 assure him. Not for nothing had William Brown 
 impersonated dukes and millionaires with impu- 
 nity. And then there was the Lucky Pig. He
 
 40 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 held it in the palm of his hand and considered it 
 reproachfully. Its expression of idiotic compla- 
 cency irritated him. He could not help feeling 
 that its influence was bad and that it had led him 
 astray in his early youth when a mother's care 
 might have put him on the right path, which leads 
 to public funerals and other rewards of virtue. 
 He fully intended to hurl it through the window, 
 but a second impulse, born of superstition, pre- 
 vented him and, instead, he slipped the creature 
 into his pocket. After all, if he really were Wil- 
 liam Brown, it was sheer folly to throw away 
 something which had been instrumental in getting 
 him out of tight places. 
 
 And this was a tight place. He wanted all the 
 luck he could lay hands on. 
 
 No. 7 went back to Dr. Frohlocken's library 
 with the courage which accompanies a compara- 
 tively new suit of clothes. But on the threshold 
 he faltered. Dr. Frohlocken was no longer alone. 
 There was Constable X., helmet in hand, and 
 looking as though he were in church, and a second 
 individual, dressed like a Man-in-the-Street. He 
 was perhaps a trifle too clean-shaven and his dress 
 perhaps a trifle too unobtrusive. He looked to 
 No. 7 horribly like a detective in disguise. Dr. 
 Frohlocken indicated him with a rude forefinger- 
 
 "That," he said, "is Inspector Smythe from 
 Scotland Yard."
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 41 
 
 Inspector Smythe jerked his head at Con- 
 stable X. 
 
 "That him?" 
 
 "That's 'im, sir." 
 
 "Inspector Smythe takes a great interest in you, 
 No. 7," Dr. Frohlocken added with the obvious 
 desire to be insulting. "iooo is a nice little sum, 
 eh, Inspector?" 
 
 No. 7 sat down because he could not stand, and 
 the two men stared at him, the Doctor with a 
 gloomy sympathy, the Inspector with an almost 
 hungry eagerness. Constable X. had ceased al- 
 together to be human. No. 7 had hated Inspector 
 Smythe on sight. Probably the dislike was inher- 
 ited from his other self which at that moment 
 predominated wholly. The desire to "do" his 
 enemy at all costs had sent the last remnants of 
 a conscience in full retreat. He set his teeth and 
 waited. 
 
 Inspector Smythe got up. He inspected No. 7 
 from different angles. He had a little note to 
 which he referred, making marks against various 
 items, after the fashion of a man checking an 
 inventory. 
 
 "So you're the gentleman who's lost his mem- 
 ory?" he remarked, finally. "Don't know who 
 you are, eh?" 
 
 No. 7 felt there was malice in the question 
 the sort of playful facetiousness for which the
 
 42 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 police are noted. He bowed coldly. Inspector 
 Smythe sniped him from another corner. 
 
 "Read the morning's paper yet, sir?" 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "Nothing in it to strike your memory, eh?" 
 
 No. 7 realised that the end was very near. 
 Too late he saw how good Slippery Bill's advice 
 had been. The odds were now three to one 
 supposing the Doctor came to the Inspector's as- 
 sistance, which, from his expression, was doubt- 
 ful. Constable X. blocked the window effectively, 
 and No. 7 had a shrewd if unreasoned suspicion 
 that James was at the key-hole. He slipped his 
 hand into his pocket and finding the Pig still there 
 clung to it. 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "Humph. Well, we'll see what we can do, eh, 
 Doctor?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken ran his hand through his black 
 hair. 
 
 "Idiot !" he said distinctly. 
 
 The Inspector smiled. He fluttered an eyelid 
 in No. 7's direction. It was evident he expected 
 the latter to appreciate the joke. 
 
 "Our friend here doesn't think much of our 
 methods but we police have our little successes 
 too sometimes. I wouldn't mind laying a bet with 
 you, Doctor, that our friend here will soon be tell- 
 ing us all about himself. Now, sir, one moment.
 
 43 
 
 When you found yourself on the doorstep, what 
 was your first sensation?" 
 
 "Well, I wondered how the deuce I'd got 
 there?" 
 
 "You were surprised?" 
 
 "Very." 
 
 "Did anything else surprise you?" 
 
 "My clothes" 
 
 "Unfamiliar, eh?" 
 
 "Distinctly." 
 
 "Feel more natural now?" 
 
 "Better, at any rate." 
 
 Inspector Smythe nodded with satisfaction. 
 He came closer to his victim. His bright gimlet 
 eyes were fixed apparently on No. y's neck. 
 
 "Found nothing on your person to identify 
 you, eh?" 
 
 No. 7 gulped. 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 Obviously he would be searched. And the first 
 and only thing that they would find was Slippery 
 Bill's mascot. He considered hurriedly whether 
 it would be better to stuff it down the back of his 
 chair or to swallow it whole. The latter method 
 occurred to him in the form of a gloomy pun 
 "swallowing a pig to save his bacon" but it 
 brought him no comfort. For one thing he had 
 to keep it to himself, for another it seemed to 
 point to a hopeless depravity; and for another
 
 44 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 it was obviously impossible to swallow anything 
 without detection. 
 
 In the midst of his terrible indecision the In- 
 spector seized his head and pressed it with a vig- 
 our which wrung from him a groan, of protest. 
 
 "Hurts, eh?" 
 
 There was, it seemed, something incriminating 
 about the head. No. 7 temporised. 
 
 "Well it certainly seems to " 
 
 "No wonder. You've got a bump there as big 
 as my fist." 
 
 "A natural one?" 
 
 The Inspector grinned. 
 
 "If a man hits you on the back of the head and 
 a bump follows, you'd call it natural, wouldn't 
 you?" 
 
 No. 7 supposed he would. 
 
 "Have I been hit on the back of the head?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "You have had an accident." The Inspector 
 wagged his pencil at the Doctor. "How does that 
 strike you, eh, sir?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken sneered. 
 
 "You are no doubt doing your best according 
 to your lights. The probability that you are 
 about to wreck my patient's mental balance for 
 ever is of course an insignificant detail. Pray 
 go on." 
 
 The Inspector accepted the invitation. He sat
 
 45 
 
 down again, to No. y's infinite relief, and referred 
 t?ack to his note-book. 
 
 "Now, sir," he said. "I want you to fo 11r >w 
 me with the closest attention. You have lost your 
 memory, but I am certain, in spite of our friend 
 here, that by suggesting certain episodes of your 
 past life to you we shall effect an immediate cure. 
 You get the idea, don't you?" 
 
 No. 7 assented. He wondered which episode 
 from Slippery Bill's career the Inspector had se- 
 lected and hoped vaguely that he had never mur- 
 dered anyone. Inspector Smythe put his pencil 
 thoughtfully to his nose. 
 
 "Imagine a big steamer," he began slowly. "A 
 well-dressed young man is lounging on a deck 
 chair. Possibly he has a French novel on his 
 knee, and is smoking a cigarette. But his thoughts 
 are elsewhere. He is thinking of someone whom 
 he is going to meet a certain lady who is waiting 
 for him in England. The prospect pleases him. 
 He enquires of a passing officer what speed the 
 ship is making. One moment, please. Has any- 
 thing come back to you?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken gave vent to a laugh such as 
 might come from a disgusted hyena. No. 7 wa- 
 vered. As far as he knew there was nothing 
 criminal in these recollections. But one never 
 knew. It would have been easier if he had known 
 what sort of man Slippery Bill really was.
 
 46 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "It seems a sort of glimmering " he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 "Humph. I thought so. Now listen. There 
 is a storm. For three days the steamer is tossed 
 about a hopeless derelict then stranded. Most 
 of the crew and passengers are drowned others 
 fatally injured in the vessel. The young man, of 
 whom I have been speaking, is saved and taken 
 to a hospital. From thence he manages to write 
 to his friend that she should come to him. Ha 
 how's that?" 
 
 "It certainly seems to be getting clearer," No. 7 
 agreed. If he had never been at sea before, he 
 was there now. There was nothing for it but to 
 continue with his half admissions. 
 
 The Inspector smiled pleasantly in the Doctor's 
 direction. 
 
 "You see. The power of suggestion. Not so 
 unscientific as you thought, eh, Doctor? Well, 
 sometimes a little bit of horse sense goes a long 
 way. Allow me now to give you the brief his- 
 tory of this young man." He turned back to his 
 note-book and began to read in a loud monotone : 
 
 "Count Louis de Beaulieu, son of the late 
 Francpis de Beaulieu, of no address, and of his 
 wife, the late Countess de Beaulieu, nee, Lady 
 Caroline Sudleigh of Sudleigh Court. Born 
 1890. Is known to have been travelling round 
 the world and to have embarked on the 'Melita'
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 47 
 
 at Gibraltar in order to return to England where 
 an estate had been left him by his maternal grand- 
 father. 'Melita' wrecked off the English coast 
 and all hands lost except Count Louis who was 
 injured on the head by a floating spar and taken 
 to the nearest hospital. Two days ago disap- 
 peared whilst nurses changed duty. Nurse testi- 
 fies to his having written and received letters and 
 to have talked in delirium of his fiancee. Can 
 give no details, as was too busy at the time to pay 
 much attention, but describes the patient as being 
 dark and good-looking." 
 
 The Inspector glanced reassuringly at No. 7, 
 who blushed. The Doctor repeated his unpleas- 
 ant laugh. 
 
 "That settles it, of course. My God this 
 country I" 
 
 "One moment, please." The Inspector 
 snapped his note-book. "Do you speak French?" 
 he asked, slowly. 
 
 There was no evading this. And he was in 
 such deep water that another fathom or two 
 scarcely mattered. 
 
 "I do, "he said firmly. 
 
 "Parlez-vous frangais?" demanded the Inspec- 
 tor, with increased solemnity. 
 
 No. 7 smiled. Somewhere at the back of his 
 mind he had discovered a rescuing fragment. 
 
 "Mais certainement," he said.
 
 48 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 'That, I think," said the Inspector, "settles it. 
 And it gives me the greatest satisfaction," he 
 added pointedly, "to have been the means of iden- 
 tifying you, Count." He produced the title with 
 the gesture of an actor who knows he has effected 
 an artistic and striking curtain. No. 7 rose slowly 
 to his feet. Whatever other social positions he 
 had arrogated to himself in his murky past this 
 one, at least, was being thrust upon him. 
 
 "Do you mean / am the Count?" he stam- 
 mered. 
 
 The Inspector bowed. 
 
 "There is, in my mind, no doubt of it." 
 
 "He's going to faint!" Dr. Frohlocken 
 burst out furiously. "And I don't wonder. If 
 he dies or goes mad I wash my hands of the 
 whole business. I never heard of such methods 
 such damned folly " 
 
 No. 7 had, in fact, caught hold of the chair 
 back for support. The shock had been too sudden. 
 His outraged and absurd conscience, stung to a 
 last desperate resistance, struggled against the lies 
 and deceptions in which he was being involved. 
 Beautiful women, rich young foreigners, steam- 
 ers, wrecks and untold wealth broke over him in 
 an avalanche. He tried to explain to deny to 
 confess. He went so far as to put his hand to his 
 pocket to produce the fatal and damning Pig 
 then he caught sight of Constable X.'s face and
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 49 
 
 desisted. That officer's expression of hungry de- 
 sire to arrest someone chilled No. y's nobler im- 
 pulse. He gave his conscience the coup de grace 
 and the Pig slid back into its hiding place. 
 
 "I accept the identification," he said. "I may 
 be out of practice but I shall endeavour to fill my 
 position worthily." 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken snorted with disgust, but Slip- 
 pery Bill was heard to applaud warmly from the 
 depths.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 DURING the next forty-eight hours Monsieur 
 de Beaulieu, of innumerable aliases, scarcely 
 knew whom he disliked most of the three people 
 amongst whom circumstances forced him to move 
 and have his being. Had they regarded him as 
 a fellow creature in distress he might have liked 
 them well enough even James had his relenting 
 moments, and the Inspector was of a refreshing 
 hopefulness but to them he was not a human 
 being at all, but an Object, to James an Object of 
 suspicion, to the Doctor an Object of Scientific 
 Interest and to the Inspector a matter of a thou- 
 sand pounds hard cash. All three were out to 
 prove something at his expense, James that he 
 wasn't what he seemed, the Inspector that he was 
 what he wanted him to be, and the Doctor that the 
 Inspector was an outrageous ass. Of the three 
 the Doctor was undoubtedly the most dangerous. 
 The Inspector at least played a straightforward 
 game and at the worst he could only produce evi- 
 dence from the outside against which Monsieur 
 de Beaulieu could defend himself with some pos- 
 sibility of success. But Dr. Frohlocken was out 
 
 50
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 51 
 
 for King's evidence. And the victim was to give 
 evidence against himself. 
 
 "It doesn't matter what you are," was one of 
 the Doctor's most disturbing dicta, "it's what you 
 think you are that matters." 
 
 And his methods savoured of a perpetual 
 Third Degree. By this time his patient had ob- 
 tained a general and very unfavourable concep- 
 tion of the Doctor's theories. Life wasn't the 
 relatively simple business he had supposed. It 
 was an appearance, a disguise cloaking unspeak- 
 able possibilities. Nothing you did was innocent 
 or insignificant. Everything pointed to something. 
 The way you sneezed, the way you cut your bread 
 and butter, your likes and dislikes, your harmless 
 little idiosyncrasies were all symptoms usually 
 of something highly discreditable. As to dreams, 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu learnt to lie about them 
 after his second night. From thence on he in- 
 vented them, but with very little success a 
 charming idyllic scene in which angels and heav- 
 enly choirs played the chief part proving itself 
 to have an entirely unsuspected significance. 
 
 Under these circumstances it was impossible to 
 know when and how the lurking Slippery Bill 
 might be coaxed out into the open. 
 
 On the other hand, Monsieur de Beaulieu was 
 steadying to his part. He was getting back some- 
 thing of the nerve which must have carried him
 
 52 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 safely through other forgotten adventures. By 
 his fourth morning he had almost begun to enjoy 
 himself. The mere fact that he had genuinely 
 lost his memory did not trouble him at all. On 
 the contrary, the inability to remember his past 
 seemed to him a distinct professional advantage, 
 conducing to a sincere innocency and ignorance of 
 the world's ways, not to mention his own. In 
 fact, but for the existence of the Pig he might 
 honestly have believed himself a Count or any- 
 thing else that the Inspector had chosen to sug- 
 gest to him. As it was, he was able to approach 
 his breakfast with zest. Even the unexpectedly 
 early appearance of the Inspector himself did not 
 prevent him removing the top of his second egg 
 with a nice accuracy. 
 
 "I think," Inspector Smythe said, shaking 
 hands firmly with the Doctor regardless of the 
 latter's obvious unwillingness, "I think, gentle- 
 men, that matters are coming to a head. Hence 
 this visit. I have obtained what will prove to be 
 conclusive evidence. Personally, I was satisfied 
 at once, but of course we could not expect the late 
 Lord Sudleigh's executors to look at it in that 
 way. A few more formalities, however, my dear 
 Count, and we shall be through." 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken smiled satirically, but the In- 
 spector, who was considering Monsieur de Beau- 
 lieu with an almost tender solicitude, was un-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 53 
 
 aware of the fact. Indeed the Count had an un- 
 comfortable conviction that Slippery Bill himself 
 could not have aroused a deeper feeling of pride 
 and proprietorship in the breast of his captor. 
 But he had no means of resisting this encroach- 
 ment on his freedom. When a man wears an- 
 other man's clothes and another man's name and 
 is contemplating the use of another man's money, 
 it is inappropriate to argue the Rights of Prop- 
 erty, and Monsieur de Beaulieu resigned himself 
 to his position and his breakfast. 
 
 "The reason I turned up so early," the In- 
 spector explained, referring to his watch, "is that 
 I'm expecting my evidence to turn up here. You'll 
 excuse the liberty I'm sure, Doctor. From the 
 point of view of your patient's health, you 
 know " 
 
 "Your consideration dumfounds me," Dr. 
 Frohlocken interjected. "May I ask whom my 
 unfortunate patient is to be confronted with this 
 morning?" 
 
 "Well, in the first place there's Lord Sud- 
 leigh's lawyer " 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu dropped his egg-spoon. 
 
 "In my present state of health, I consider that 
 my feelings ought to be considered," he said, 
 plaintively. "And I don't like lawyers." 
 
 "Memory returning, eh what?" the Inspector 
 suggested.
 
 54 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "I think it's instinct," the Count explained. 
 
 "Well, anyhow he had to come. That's him 
 ringing now, I've no doubt. Or maybe it's your 
 nurse " 
 
 "My what?" The Count had now definitely 
 finished with his breakfast. The Inspector smiled 
 reassuringly upon him. 
 
 "Your nurse, Count. I sent for her so that she 
 could meet you together with the lawyer fellow. 
 Identification, you understand. Nurse bound to 
 recognise you " 
 
 "But look here " the Count put his hand to 
 his burning forehead. A lawyer was bad enough, 
 but a nurse the loving guardian of somebody 
 else's tender youth was too much. Discovery 
 again loomed on the horizon, and he did not want 
 to be discovered. Whether it belonged to him 
 or not, the position of Count de Beaulieu suited 
 him down to the ground, and he had not the 
 slightest intention of surrendering it without a 
 struggle. "Excuse me, Inspector," he said, "but 
 if I have been travelling round the world for the 
 last few years, how do you expect this eh per- 
 son to recognise me?" 
 
 Inspector Smythe stopped half-way to the door. 
 
 "Recognise you why shouldn't she recognise 
 you? Why, only a week ago she was nursing 
 you!"
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 55 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu drew himself up to his 
 full height. 
 
 "It is quite true that I have completely forgot- 
 ten my past," he said with dignity, "but one thing 
 I'll swear to I haven't had a nurse for the. last 
 twenty years and anybody who says she " 
 
 "My dear Count," interrupted the Inspector. 
 "I don't mean that sort I mean a sick nurse, 
 a hospital nurse. But of course you've forgotten 
 the wreck, you know." 
 
 The Count put his hand to the back of his head 
 which was still sensitive. A light had dawned, 
 but it was scarcely a comforting one. 
 
 "So it's her!" he exclaimed, with a regrettable 
 lack of grammar. "Good God!" 
 
 "Just you wait," said his protector, consol- 
 ingly, "I'll bring the whole lot in and then we'll 
 be through with it " 
 
 "Look here!" the Count held out a detaining 
 hand. "Supposing she says I'm not who you think 
 I am what's going to< happen? It's not a hang- 
 ing business, is it? I never thought of being 
 a Count until you suggested it and I " 
 
 U I take all responsibility," said the Inspector 
 firmly. "And if you are not you then we must 
 find out who you are. You must be somebody." 
 
 "I suppose so." The Count tugged at his small 
 moustache. "On the whole though if you don't 
 mind and the worst comes to the worst I think
 
 56 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 I won't bother any more about it. It's rather 
 nerve-racking, you know this sort of quick- 
 change business. If I'm not the Count de Beau- 
 lieu I'll just start life again as eh anybody 
 Adol Tom Smith Brown " He had sup- 
 pressed the William with an effort which left him 
 breathless and horror-stricken by the nearness of 
 his escape. The Inspector wagged a playful 
 finger. 
 
 "Now just you wait, Count," he said sooth- 
 ingly. "All you've got to do is to wait and keep 
 cool quite cool " 
 
 He was out of the room before any further 
 protest could be made, and the Count, having 
 overcome the temptation to put an end to the 
 situation by jumping through the window, pre- 
 pared himself for the next dilemma, with a sang- 
 froid which the events of the last few days had 
 helped to develop in him. Nevertheless, as he 
 heard returning footsteps, he had some difficulty 
 in retaining his attitude of dignified and he 
 hoped aristocratic composure by the fireside. 
 He knew that his face was redder than is con- 
 sidered elegant in good society and his high col- 
 lar his first purchase with the Count's money 
 had become uncomfortably tight and hot. Even 
 his last resource, an eyeglass which he had ac- 
 customed himself to wearing in moments of ex- 
 treme pressure, failed him by dropping as the
 
 57 
 
 door opened, with a nerve-jarring click against 
 his waistcoat button. 
 
 The Inspector had left the room in a certain 
 state of excitement. He returned with the pom- 
 pous and funereal tread of a man conscious that 
 the eyes of the world are upon you. Behind him 
 loomed a Large Person in the garb of a hospital 
 nurse and, behind her again, a ferret-like little 
 man, in all the glory of the professional frock- 
 coat, was endeavouring not very successfully to 
 make himself visible. 
 
 There was a moment's potential silence. The 
 Inspector made a solemn gesture of introduction. 
 
 "Permit me," he said. "Count Louis de 
 Beaulieu Nurse Bunbury Mr. Simmons; Dr. 
 Frohlocken Nurse Bunbury " 
 
 The Doctor removed his spectacles, placed 
 them in an inner pocket and buttoned up his coat 
 with the air of a man who refuses to contemplate 
 a disgraceful scene. Count Louis, raised by the 
 dignity of his full title, endeavoured to pull him- 
 self together. The Large Person was staring at 
 him with a blankness which boded nothing good 
 and the lawyer had evidently already summed him 
 up and, from the expression of the small eyes be- 
 hind the pince-nez, none too favourably. Hither- 
 to Monsieur de Beaulieu had felt himself sur- 
 prisingly at home in his position. Under this 
 combined attack he began to slide rapidly down
 
 5 8 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 the social scale. There was no doubt that the 
 game was up. It only remained for him to carry 
 the rest of his brief glory to a gallant end. 
 
 "I'm awfully grateful to you both for coming 
 to my assistance like this," he said. "Please sit 
 down." 
 
 His manner was gracious and gentlemanly. 
 The Large Person alone persisted in her uncom- 
 promising stare. The lawyer obviously softened. 
 
 "Thank you thank you " he was heard to 
 murmur. "Delighted to be of any assistance." 
 After which admission he sat down and produced 
 a number of sealed documents which he laid on 
 the table with an air of grave mystery and pol- 
 ished his pince-nez with a corner of his handker- 
 chief. "You say you are the Count Louis de 
 Beaulieu?" he asked so suddenly and loudly 
 that even the Large Person started. 
 
 The Count smiled and shook his head. 
 
 "I don't say so," he said. "I am told so." 
 
 "Ah, yes, of course. Loss of memory. Very 
 awkward indeed." 
 
 "But very interesting," put in the Doctor satir- 
 ically. Whereupon the Large Person testified 
 her assent by a slow and twice repeated nod of 
 the neatly bonneted head. 
 
 Mr. Simmons coughed. 
 
 "It is a case of identification by credible wit- 
 nesses then," he said. "To all intents and pur-
 
 59 
 
 poses, Count, we might as well look upon you as 
 a corpse." 
 
 "By all means," the Count agreed. "Barring 
 anatomical researches there is nothing I should 
 like better. Pray proceed." 
 
 "But it is not an easy case," Mr. Simmons went 
 on, with the air of reproving unwarrantable lev- 
 ity. "Your inability to testify on your own be- 
 half, and the difficulty in procuring witnesses, 
 make the matter exceptionally complicated. I 
 may remind you that you have no relative living to 
 identify you. Your uncle, my late client, Lord 
 Sudleigh, who has left you the property in ques- 
 tion, died two months ago. His direct heir has 
 never seen you. Your past mode of life, which, 
 if I may say so, appears to have been somewhat 
 roving, makes it practically impossible to procure 
 reliable witnesses. Those who knew you on board 
 the 'Melita' are unfortunately deceased. It re- 
 mains to be seen whether Nurse Bunbury, who 
 attended Count de Beaulieu, recognises you as her 
 patient." 
 
 "Exactly!" said the Inspector. 
 
 The Count put his hand involuntarily to his 
 collar. The great and critical moment had come. 
 The only person who appeared indifferent to the 
 fact was Nurse Bunbury herself. Her expression 
 remained blank. "Come 1" exclaimed the lawyer,
 
 60 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 sharply. "Is he or is he not the Count de 
 Beaulieu?" 
 
 "I don't know," she said. 
 
 "Nonsense you must know. He was under 
 your charge for two days." 
 
 "I don't know," the Large Person repeated, 
 stonily. "There doesn't seem to be anything the 
 matter with him." 
 
 "Good heavens, woman n 
 
 "Except a bit of fever perhaps," she interposed 
 with the air of modifying an important statement, 
 "but then most of 'em have that." 
 
 Mr. Simmons interposed with an air of ex- 
 emplary patience. 
 
 "But, my good person " he began, "nobody 
 wants to know if there is anything the matter 
 with him. You have come here " 
 
 "If there isn't anything the matter with him," 
 Nurse Bunbury interrupted, "I can't tell whether 
 I know him or not. That's all I can say, but I 
 would like to add that my name is Bunbury 
 Nurse Bunbury and that I am not a person. I 
 am a lady." 
 
 The Inspector looked at the lawyer and the 
 lawyer stared at his documents. The Count re- 
 placed his eyeglass in a bright eye which was 
 twinkling at that moment with completely recov- 
 ered good-humour. 
 
 "You mean to say," Mr. Simmons began again
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 61 
 
 sternly, "that you only recognise your patients by 
 their diseases?" 
 
 "Diseases and haccidents," the Large Person 
 assented. "I have ten of 'em under me this very 
 day. No. I, dislocated knee joint. No. 2, 
 broken leg. No. 3, amputated big toe. No. 
 
 4" 
 
 "Thank you " began the Doctor hastily. 
 
 "And last week I was in the infection ward," 
 Nurse Bunbury continued undeterred. "Twelve 
 of 'em I had and every one of 'em diphtherias. 
 Only knew them by their temperatures. No. 6, 
 he died yesterday " 
 
 The lawyer shifted his chair nearer the open 
 window. 
 
 "Very interesting, Nurse," he said, "very in- 
 teresting indeed, but scarcely to the point. Would 
 you mind turning your attention to your late pa- 
 tient, Count Louis de Beaulieu? What was the 
 matter with him, pray?" 
 
 "If you mean No. 7 " the Large Person 
 began. 
 
 "I mean the patient who disappeared last 
 Thursday week with somebody else's clothes." 
 
 "That's No. 7," she said at once. "Came in 
 with a whole lot of 'em half drowned, that's 
 what they were. Couldn't tell tother from which. 
 But 7, he was a scamp. He went off with 
 No. 9's trousers and waistcoats. No. 9 died next
 
 62 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 day, which was a mighty good thing considering 
 his nasty temper. If he had known that his 
 trousers " 
 
 By this time Dr. Frohloeken had replaced his 
 spectacles, through which he was gazing at the 
 Large Person with interest and satisfaction. 
 
 "I congratulate you, Madam" he said. "You 
 appear to have the proper scientific point of view. 
 You are not concerned with absurd personalities. 
 It happens that I, too, regard him as No. 7. And 
 No. 7 he remains until by reasonable meth- 
 ods" 
 
 "I am asking you about your patient," Mr. 
 Simmons put in with determined patience. "What 
 was the matter with him?" 
 
 "Concussion, sir, with fever and a tempera- 
 ture" 
 
 "Stop I" The Inspector pointed an accusing 
 finger at her. "Did you say concussion?" 
 
 "I did, sir." 
 
 "From a blow?" 
 
 "On the back of the head. A nasty-looking 
 thing" 
 
 "Wait I" The Inspector crossed the room and 
 taking the Count by the shoulders whirled him 
 round and removed the bandage very much as a 
 conjuror removes the cloth from the magic flower- 
 pot from whence rabbits and other surprises are
 
 63 
 
 to make their appearance. "Look at that!" he 
 commanded. 
 
 The Large Person looked. The lawyer looked. 
 The Count blushed self-consciously. 
 
 "How about that?" the Inspector appealed. 
 
 "If it isn't it," the Large Person began sol- 
 emnly, "then it's as like it as if it was its twin- 
 brother." 
 
 The Count was permitted to turn round. He 
 found the Inspector flushed with triumph, the 
 lawyer dubious. Nurse Bunbury smiled upon him 
 with delighted recognition. 
 
 "I knew it at once, No. 7," she said. "Couldn't 
 have made a mistake about it. And now I be- 
 lieve I remember you, too. When I was bandag- 
 ing your head I said to myself, 'If that young 
 fellow has any sense left in him after that it's a 
 wonder!' And how you talked! My gracious, 
 you kept us all awake with 'her.' It was 'Theo- 
 dora this' and 'Theodora that' till " 
 
 The Count coughed. They were on thin ice 
 again and though it was a satisfaction to know 
 the lady's name he felt that there was something 
 indiscreet in his discussion of another man's love- 
 affairs. 
 
 "I think," he said with dignity, "that we can 
 leave the lady out of the case." 
 
 "I should hope so," the Doctor muttered. 
 
 Mr. Simmons shook his head.
 
 64 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "It would be a great gain if we could find this 
 'Theodora,' " he observed. "I confess, Inspector, 
 that though your theories are very ingenious I 
 feel doubtful as to whether I should like to trust 
 them to the extent of 10,000 a year and an estate 
 in Norfolk. You will admit that the evidence 
 is weak in the extreme " 
 
 "Weak! What more do you want?" 
 
 "I want Theodora," Mr. Simmons returned 
 with a dryness of manner which nullified the sug- 
 gestion of tenderness in his words. 
 
 The Inspector shook his head and turned his 
 eyes to the ceiling as though hoping to find there 
 a sympathetic witness to so much unreasonable- 
 ness. But before he had sufficiently recovered 
 himself to protest the door was opened and James 
 stood solemnly on the threshold. 
 
 "If you please, sir, a lady to see you," he an- 
 nounced. 
 
 The Doctor waved his hands distractedly. 
 
 "I do not want to see her. Can't you see I 
 have enough fools here already. Send her away." 
 
 "If you please, sir, it is your consultation 
 hour." 
 
 "What do I care, idiot. Send her away, I 
 tell you!" 
 
 "If you please, sir, she said it was very im- 
 portant." 
 
 "What do you mean? Is she dying?"
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 65 
 
 "I don't know, sir. One never can tell." 
 
 "The healthiest-looking go first," the Large 
 Person observed unexpectedly. 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken hesitated a moment, obviously 
 torn between impatience at the interruption and 
 a sense of professional duty. 
 
 "If you would wait but a few minutes ?" he 
 suggested doubtfully. 
 
 Simmons bowed. 
 
 "By all means." 
 
 "My time is yours, Doctor," added Monsieur 
 de Beaulieu graciously. 
 
 Thus encouraged, but with considerable ill-will, 
 Dr. Frohlocken followed the stoical James in 
 the direction of his consulting-room and, for a 
 time, nothing was heard but the distant murmur 
 of a woman's voice, interrupted occasionally by 
 the Doctor's familiar grunts of disapproval. 
 
 The three listeners maintained a gloomy sil- 
 ence. The Large Person, having lost interest in 
 her whilom patient, had collapsed into the most 
 comfortable chair, and the lawyer was staring in 
 front of him with an expression which forbade 
 liberties. The Count felt he was suspected in 
 that quarter and, warned by experience, refrained 
 from touching on even such innocent topics as the 
 weather. For the moment the danger of dis- 
 covery was averted, but for how long? As long, 
 probably, as the real Count chose to maintain his
 
 66 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 mysterious incognito. Or, perhaps the Count 
 was dead. The gold pig lying at the bottom 
 of his understudy's waistcoat suggested the glo- 
 rious possibility with unction, but the understudy 
 himself discountenanced it. He felt that to hope 
 such a thing was indecent almost criminal a 
 feeling which he knew to be ridiculous, but which, 
 with the best will in the world, he could not alto- 
 gether suppress. Anyhow, he had no grudge to 
 speak of against the genuine Count, and none at 
 all against the lovely Theodora. For he had 
 made up his mind that she was lovely. The name 
 suggested it and the Count's behaviour proved it. 
 A man who can ramble on about a lady on the 
 top of a shipwreck and concussion of the brain 
 has usually method in his madness. The bogus 
 Count fancied her at that moment in tears, 
 weighed down by grief at the mysterious loss of 
 her lover, and his heart went out to her in pity 
 and considerable remorse. 
 
 "Theodora!" he repeated to himself. "Con- 
 foundedly pretty name ! Theodora what, I won- 
 der? Smith, probably or perhaps Brown!" 
 Whereupon he smiled ruefully. 
 
 It was at this moment that Dr. Frohlocken re- 
 turned. It appeared at once that some of his 
 scientific detachment had been lost in that brief 
 interview. He was still angry, but also not a 
 little moved by some gentler emotion. He re-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 67 
 
 garded No. 7 for the first time as though he were 
 something more than an interesting experiment. 
 
 "As my house has become a lunatic asylum," 
 he said, "it is not inappropriate that mad events 
 should take place in it. I am glad to think that 
 at any rate I have washed my hands of all con- 
 sequences. No. 7, Mademoiselle Theodora de 
 Melville awaits you in my consulting room."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 COUNT Louis DE BEAULIEU stood with his 
 shaking hand upon the door handle. The last 
 few minutes lay behind him like hours of night- 
 mare of which this was the culminating agony. 
 His utter consternation, mistaken by the Doctor 
 for the bewilderment of an overpowering joy, the 
 gradually dawning realisation of his position in its 
 new and hopeless complications, had followed fast 
 upon each other, and yet it seemed to him an 
 eternity since he had smiled upon the Large Per- 
 son and the dour-faced lawyer with all the in- 
 souciance of the budding fatalist. Then the whole 
 thing had appeared more or less farcical an in- 
 credible comedy in which his mental misfortune 
 played the chief role. Then he had, in some meas- 
 ure, felt himself a person of distinction. Now he 
 was nothing more than a common rogue about to 
 face his judge. And his judge was a woman 
 that was the worst of it an angry, unhappy, dis- 
 appointed woman, and one thing was certain in his 
 mind, namely, that in all his previous nefarious 
 career he had never enjoyed "doing" a woman or 
 taking the consequences. Moreover, his nerve 
 
 68
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 69 
 
 was gone. It was in vain that he threw back his 
 shoulders and tugged at his tie and told himself 
 that whatever happened she couldn't kill him. 
 He trembled visibly, and when he at length pushed 
 open the fatal door he did so with much the same 
 despairing courage as that which drives the suicide 
 over the precipice. 
 
 He saw her before she saw him. She was 
 standing by the window, her hands clasped to- 
 gether in an attitude of suppressed agitation, and 
 before she moved he gathered that she was small, 
 graceful and elegantly, if quietly, dressed. When 
 she at length turned he saw that she suited the 
 name Theodora even better than his picture of 
 her. He had no memories to go by, but he could 
 not believe that he had ever seen anything more 
 lovely than her face, or anything more charming 
 than its bewildering contrasts. The delicate fea- 
 tures and grey eyes had certainly been made for 
 happiness and their expression of trouble was as 
 piquant as it was pathetic. Evidently she had 
 been crying, and yet behind the tears there were 
 untold possibilities of mirth and malicious hu- 
 mour; her fine lips trembled he could so easily 
 have imagined how they would twitch with sup- 
 pressed laughter. She looked at him steadily and 
 he braced his shoulders against the door and faced 
 her with sullen defiance. But she neither screamed 
 nor gave any sign of surprise. She came towards
 
 70 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 him, and his eyes dropped. His defiance was 
 melting fast into a miserable regret. 
 
 ''Please don't say anything!" he burst out at 
 last. "You can't say more than I could say about 
 myself. I'm an utter cad I suppose I was born 
 one and I've played you all a mean trick. I 
 know it and it's not much excuse to say I didn't 
 mean it. It was that Inspector " 
 
 "But you see I know already I read about it 
 in the papers," she interrupted gently. "You lost 
 your memory." The tone of her voice gave him 
 courage. He looked up at her again. 
 
 "Absolutely, I can't remember a thing. That's 
 how it all started. It's my only excuse." He 
 hesitated. "I'm most awfully sorry to have hurt 
 you," he said huskily. 
 
 She smiled a little woe-begone smile that was 
 not without bitterness. 
 
 "You couldn't help it," she said. "Besides 
 it's all over now." 
 
 "Yes of course, it's all over now especially 
 as far as I am concerned." He drew himself up- 
 right. "Anyhow before you call the Inspec- 
 tor" 
 
 "But I'm not going to call the Inspector. Why 
 should I ? not yet at least." 
 
 He stared at her. 
 
 "You mean good heavens, Mademoiselle
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 71 
 
 you don't mean that you are going to help me out 
 of this mess?" 
 
 "For what else should I be here?" She came 
 forward and laid a white hand on his arm. 
 "Aren't you a little glad to see me Louis?" 
 
 For a minute a haze floated before his eyes. 
 When it cleared he saw a sweet face close to his 
 own, a pair of lips which trembled and yet smiled 
 at him. He pressed his hand to his head. 
 
 "Mademoiselle I beg your pardon I don't 
 understand " 
 
 "I asked if you were not a little glad to see me. 
 Is that so very strange or difficult?" 
 
 "But " He did not finish his sentence. Like 
 so many flashes of light, a dozen half-formed pos- 
 sibilities passed before his mind. Was he in real- 
 ity the Count? Did he, by some extraordinary 
 coincidence, bear that nobleman such a strong re- 
 semblance that even his fiancee was deceived? 
 Had the lucky pig miraculously changed him or 
 blinded her? Each suggestion seemed equally 
 unlikely and equally absurd. The one thing that 
 was certain was Mademoiselle Theodora herself 
 and the small white hand resting on his arm. The 
 instinct of self-preservation, or possibly the latent 
 spirit of Slippery Bill or possibly something al- 
 together different urged him to take it and press 
 it between both his own. 
 
 "Forgive me if I seem very stupid," he said.
 
 72 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Look upon me as a sort of invalid with whom 
 one must have patience. You see, I can't remem- 
 ber anything not a single detail." 
 
 "Not even the woman you you " 
 
 " loved?" He shook his head regretfully. 
 "I'm afraid not. Though, if it had the chance, 
 I know it would all come back." As he looked 
 down into her face he winced at the thought of 
 what his real memories might consist. "It's in- 
 fernally hard," he said with truth and considerable 
 force. 
 
 "Yes," she agreed, sighing, "very hard." Her 
 hand dropped from his arm, and she turned away 
 from him. He felt that the tears were very near 
 the surface. "It's like beginning life all over 
 again," she went on, half to herself. 
 
 He nodded ruefully. 
 
 "For me, at least. To all intents and purposes 
 I'm a new born babe. I don't even know my own 
 name." 
 
 "Your name is Louis de Beaulieu." 
 
 "So I am told, Mademoiselle," but / don't 
 know." 
 
 She looked at him keenly and since, for once 
 in a way and quite against the principles of his 
 criminal self, he was telling the truth, he bore her 
 scrutiny without flinching. 
 
 "Then then I suppose I had better go," she 
 said unsteadily. "I would never have come if I
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 73 
 
 had realised that that of course you would have 
 forgotten me too." She moved towards the door. 
 He followed her. Prudence flew to the winds. 
 She was flushed with humiliation, and he had hu- 
 miliated her. Here was a charming and lovely 
 woman who came to him with her love and con- 
 fidence, and he rebuffed her, insulted her by tell- 
 ing her that he did not even remember her exist- 
 ence. That was too much. Hardened criminal 
 though he might be, Slippery Bill was evidently 
 chivalrous to the bone. He interposed himself 
 firmly between the lady and the door. 
 
 "Don't go!" he blurted out. "Please don't go 
 not like that at any rate. Sit down and tell me 
 all about everything about yourself and myself. 
 It's a wretched business, but perhaps we can help 
 each other. At least we ought to try. Please 
 don't punish me like this." 
 
 "I don't want to punish you," she said gently. 
 "It's not your fault." 
 
 "Well, sit down then there by the fire. Let 
 me take off your furs for you so. Are you com- 
 fortable? Is it too warm for you?" 
 
 She smiled up into his eager face and the smile 
 transfigured her. Monsieur de Beaulieu forgot to 
 look away. 
 
 "At any rate you have remembered how to be 
 nice," she said. "Thank you I am very com- 
 fortable. Won't you sit down over there?"
 
 74 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 The gentle reminder recalled him to himself 
 and he bowed stiffly. 
 
 "Thank you, Mademoiselle " 
 
 "Don't be offended." There was now a sus- 
 picion of genuine laughter in her grey eyes. "You 
 see, we are starting life all over again." 
 
 "Of course," he said decorously, from the other 
 side of the fire-place. "All the same I should like 
 to know something of my pre-existence, if I may 
 so call it. Would you mind ?" 
 
 She did not answer at once. She stared gravely 
 into the fire and he felt with a sense of shame that 
 the subject must necessarily be painful to her. He 
 bent forward in an attitude of confidential friend- 
 liness. 
 
 "Let me help you," he said. "I'll begin by 
 asking questions. Am I, for instance, really the 
 Count Louis de Beaulieu?" 
 
 She looked at him in quick surprise. 
 
 "Of course," she said. 
 
 "And you are Mademoiselle Theodora de Mel- 
 ville?" 
 
 She nodded without speaking and he hesitated, 
 knowing that he was near delicate ground, yet 
 desperately anxious to know more. 
 
 "I know I sound like an inquisitor," he went 
 on humbly, "but you must have patience with me. 
 You can treat me as a sort of harmless lunatic if 
 you like, but remember that you are the only per-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 75 
 
 son who can help me. Won't you tell me some- 
 thing more tell me, for instance, where you 
 live?" 
 
 "I lived in France," she said, with a faint 
 emphasis on the past tense. 
 
 "Was it there that we er first met?" 
 
 "Yes," she said, and blushed. The blush was 
 distracting. De Beaulieu fingered his eyeglass 
 nervously. 
 
 "Was that very long ago?" 
 
 "Five years." 
 
 "And we saw each other very often, I sup- 
 pose?" 
 
 "Oh, no." She looked at him with puzzled 
 brows. "We only knew each other for a week. 
 It was a case of love at first sight. Then you 
 went away to make your fortune." 
 
 He nodded gravely. It occurred to him that 
 here lay a possible clue to the mystery. A week 
 is a short time to remember and five years a long 
 time in which to forget. A faint resemblance 
 might easily develop, backed by circumstance, into 
 something more definite. 
 
 "I understood er that we were were are 
 engaged?" he ventured cautiously. 
 
 Her eyes returned to the fire. 
 
 "But certainly." For the first time he detected 
 a foreign nuance in her speech and manner. "We 
 
 N
 
 76 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 were engaged but my father objected. He turned 
 you out of our house." 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu drew himself up. It an- 
 noyed him to find that he was still saddled with a 
 doubtful character. 
 
 "Why? Did they object to me?" 
 
 "You had no money in those days," she an- 
 swered with a faint smile. "And they said that 
 you were well, just a little wild." 
 
 It was no use feeling aggrieved. A man with 
 Slippery Bill's record might be thankful to come 
 off so lightly. "Apparently you overcame their 
 prejudices, however?" he suggested. 
 
 She threw back her head with a fascinating 
 movement of defiance. 
 
 "Indeed not!" she said. 
 
 "Then, Mademoiselle, I'm afraid I really don't 
 understand how you came here." 
 
 "I ran away." 
 
 "From your parents?" 
 
 "I was very unhappy," she said, almost in a 
 whisper. 
 
 "Yes but surely wasn't it very unwise?" 
 
 Her lips twitched. 
 
 "You were in New York," she said, "and you 
 wrote to me." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well then I ran away."
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 77 
 
 He rose slowly from his chair, as though im- 
 pelled by an irresistible force. 
 
 "You ran away where to?" 
 
 "To England." 
 
 "What what for?" 
 
 Her eyes avoided his. Her blush deepened. 
 
 "I would rather not say." 
 
 "I insist. I must know. Why did you come 
 to England?" 
 
 She looked at him again this time with re- 
 solve and a faint flicker of laughter in her eyes. 
 
 "You insist?" she asked. 
 
 "I insist." 
 
 "Well then I came to England to marry you." 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu sat down again. The 
 movement had been a compulsory one. His knees 
 had given way under him. 
 
 "And and your parents?" he began feebly. 
 
 "By this time they have discarded me." 
 
 "Good heavens!" he said under his breath. 
 
 "I didn't mean to tell you," she went on, "but 
 you made me, and perhaps it is just as well that 
 you should know the truth. Of course, now the 
 circumstances have altered everything, and you 
 are quite, quite free. Here are your letters." 
 
 She opened a dainty reticule and produced a 
 packet tied with blue ribbons which he accepted 
 gingerly. He looked at the contents and his last 
 hope faded. The writing was utterly unlike his
 
 78 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 own secret experiments in that direction. It was 
 a very simple, clerk-like hand, easy to imitate, as 
 his criminal self immediately noted, and though 
 the Doctor, who had theories on the subject of 
 mental troubles, would never have recognised the 
 discrepancies as evidence, the Rogue himself felt 
 that the testimony of the little gold pig in his 
 waistcoat pocket had been amply confirmed. Had 
 he not the right to ignore the pig and accept a 
 situation into which he had been pitchforked by 
 circumstances and a handful of determined luna- 
 tics? He glanced across at his companion. Her 
 head was bowed. He fancied that there were 
 tears on her cheeks. 
 
 "May I read these?" he asked uncertainly. 
 
 "Why not since they are yours?" 
 
 He untied the bundle. Some of the letters 
 were in French, some in an English freely be- 
 sprinkled with Americanisms, all of them were 
 tender. Monsieur de Beaulieu's knowledge of 
 French proved to be limited but he guessed suc- 
 cessfully at "ma bien-aimee" ; "mon ange" ; "je 
 t* adore," and the signature, "Louis de Beaulieu," 
 was unmistakable. He ground his teeth. 
 
 "What an utter scoundrel!" he said aloud. 
 
 Mademoiselle Theodora opened her eyes wide. 
 
 "Who?" she asked. 
 
 "The Count I mean of course I mean 
 what an utter scoundrel I should be if I were
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 79 
 
 no, that's not what I meant either. In plain lan- 
 guage it was a scoundrelly thing to have written 
 to you like that and then have left you well, like 
 this." 
 
 "But you couldn't help it," she protested. "You 
 lost your memory." 
 
 "Exactly. But if I hadn't lost my memory I 
 should be a scoundrel, shouldn't I?" 
 
 She nodded in puzzled assent. 
 
 "I should deserve anything I should deserve 
 to lose you and er anything else that happened 
 to belong to me, shouldn't I?" 
 
 "You would certainly lose me," she said with 
 conviction. 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu adjusted his eyeglass 
 with the air of a man who sees his way clear. 
 
 "Then it seems to me that we can go ahead 
 without compunction," he remarked. "Theo- 
 dora" 
 
 She rose. 
 
 "I have the honour to wish you good-morning, 
 Count." 
 
 "Where are you going?" 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "That, my friend, is no longer your affair." 
 
 "Excuse me!" He rose and faced her. "I 
 have been thinking it over," he said slowly and 
 distinctly. "It's too long a business to start life
 
 80 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 all over again. If you have no objection we will 
 begin where we left off, Theodora." 
 
 She drew back. The colour faded from her 
 cheeks. 
 
 "I am afraid I am rather stupid," she said. 
 
 "I mean I may be forgetful but I am very 
 impressionable." 
 
 She smiled ironically. 
 
 "You are very chivalrous," she retorted. 
 
 "Then you don't believe in love at first sight 
 after all?" he asked. 
 
 "I believe that you are trying to be generous, 
 Good-morning, Count!" 
 
 She tried to pass him but he caught her hands 
 and held them. 
 
 "You are not going till you have heard me 
 out. You say I am the Count de Beaulieu. Well, 
 I take your word for it. You say you are Made- 
 moiselle de Melville, my fiancee. Well, I take 
 your word for that too. So we're quits. As 
 you are engaged to me I presume you must love 
 me. Will you marry me?" 
 
 "Marry you?" she echoed. 
 
 "This very day!" he said recklessly. 
 
 She turned her back to him as though to hide 
 her face. 
 
 "I repeat you are generous, Count." 
 
 "And I swear to you that I have never loved 
 another woman at least if I have I can't remem-
 
 Si 
 
 her it and I promise you that I will never love 
 another. I can't say more." 
 
 She frowned. 
 
 "You would have been wiser if you had said 
 less, Count," she said. "Shall I tell you the truth? 
 You are impelled by two motives firstly by your 
 sense of duty and secondly by your susceptibility 
 to a pretty face. For the first I admire you, for 
 the second I despise you, and for your offer I 
 thank you. And so good morning." 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu held his ground, though 
 he flushed. 
 
 "We will leave love and duty out of the mat- 
 ter," he said. "Let us call it a 'mariage de con- 
 venance.' " 
 
 She seemed to take no exception to his French. 
 She stopped short and looked at him with a sud- 
 den attention. 
 
 "Explain !" she commanded. 
 
 "I mean just this if you won't have me I 
 doubt if anyone ever will. I don't seem to have 
 a friend or a relation in the world. From my 
 point of view it would be a charitable act to marry 
 me. As for you well, you admit yourself that 
 he I we have put you into a decidedly awk- 
 ward position." 
 
 "Do you think I would marry you out of fear 
 for myself?" she asked, white with anger.
 
 82 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Surely my forgetfulness has not cost me all 
 your affection?" he pleaded pathetically. 
 
 "We will leave affection out of the matter," 
 she mimicked. 
 
 "Very well as a matter of convenience then." 
 
 She stood silent, evidently at war with conflict- 
 ing emotions, and he waited patiently. He had 
 surreptitiously taken the Lucky Pig from his 
 pocket and was squeezing it with a new fervour 
 of beHef in its miraculous powers. For once in a 
 way his conscience was mute. If he was the 
 Count than he was doing the right thing; and if 
 he was, as he had every reason to suspect, no other 
 than William Brown, commonly known as Slip- 
 pery Bill, then he was acting like a rogue, which 
 was all that could be expected of him. As for 
 Theodora it was her fault if she could not tell 
 her lover from his double, and anyhow, in his 
 opinion, she had made a profitable exchange. 
 
 So he waited, and presently she looked at him 
 with a softened rather tremulous smile. 
 
 "Perhaps, Count " she began. 
 
 "My name is Louis," he interrupted. "You 
 told me so yourself." 
 
 "Perhaps then, Louis " She hesitated. 
 
 "You consent?" he asked. 
 
 "We are rather like two lost children," she 
 said sadly. "Perhaps, as you say, we had better 
 join forces if it is possible."
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 83 
 
 "Instinct tells me that there are such things 
 as special licenses," he answered joyfully. 
 
 "And you understand it is and remains a mat- 
 ter of convenience?" 
 
 "Until further orders, Theodora." 
 
 She smiled faintly. 
 
 "My name, at least, seems to be becoming fa- 
 miliar to you," she said. 
 
 "I think," he returned, "that there are some 
 things which will come back to me very quickly." 
 
 "It's a bargain then?" 
 
 "A solemn league and covenant." 
 
 She gave him her hand. He kissed it and she 
 drew back with a proud offended gesture. 
 
 "That is not necessary, Monsieur." 
 
 "After all, you did love me," he returned re- 
 proachfully. "You have not forgotten." 
 
 "Such things must be mutual." 
 
 "Tell me. Didn't I fall in love with you the 
 first hour I saw you?" 
 
 She flushed deeply. 
 
 "You said so. Pray let us rejoin your friends, 
 Monsieur." 
 
 He held open the door for her. 
 
 "It seems I have not changed at all," he said.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 NOT very far from an unfashionable part of 
 London, commonly known as Whitechapel, there 
 is a dirty little street which serves as a means 
 of communication between two larger and more 
 populous thoroughfares. In this region there are 
 many dirty little streets, so that the description 
 would be scarcely adequate were it not added 
 that Herbert or 'Urbert Street to use the local 
 designation was by far and away the dirtiest, 
 narrowest and most evil-smelling of them all. In 
 the day time it gave the impression of being 
 wholly deserted not so much as an urchin en- 
 livened its unsavoury gutters but towards eve- 
 ning there was a change which altered the whole 
 character of the place. Dark figures slunk out 
 of unlighted doorways and little mysterious 
 groups formed themselves well out of reach of 
 the lamp light scattering precipitately in all di- 
 rections as a couple of stalwart constables prome- 
 naded down the centre of the narrow roadway. 
 In a word 'Urbert Street had a reputation which 
 put Seven Dials to shame, and successfully saved 
 it from the tender administrations of amateur 
 
 84
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 85 
 
 "slumbers" and "Lady Beneficents" who were 
 rumoured to haunt the more respectable regions. 
 Even the constables hunted in couples, a few un- 
 pleasant little incidents having proved that it was 
 unhealthy even for six foot of Yorkshire manhood 
 to appear unchaperoned, and "swells" were natu- 
 rally unknown. Consequently, the appearance of 
 a tall, well-dressed young man who drove up to 
 the corner in a taxi, would have caused a sensa- 
 tion had the usual habitues been there to wit- 
 ness it. For reasons best known to themselves, 
 however, the inhabitants shunned the light of 
 day and the only living object was a curious look- 
 ing individual who was leaning up against a lamp- 
 post, staring blankly a-t nothing in particular. The 
 well-dressed young man paid his taximan who, 
 having eyed him and the proffered pound note 
 with equal suspicion, turned his vehicle and drove 
 off with as much speed as was consistent with dig- 
 nity. His recent "hire" waited a moment and, 
 after referring to a newspaper cutting, made his 
 way slowly down the left side of the street. Evi- 
 dently he was looking for a number, but numbers 
 had long ago been discarded in a region where the 
 tenants changed their place of residence too often 
 and too suddenly to make an address of any great 
 value. A fruitless wandering brought the un- 
 usual visitor back to his starting point. The 
 quaint figure in the check suit was still leaning in
 
 86 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 the same attitude against the lamp-post and the 
 young man of immaculate appearance, after a mo- 
 ment's hesitation, went up to him and lifted his 
 hat. 
 
 "Would you mind telling me which is No. 10?" 
 he asked courteously. 
 
 The person thus addressed gave not the slight- 
 est sign of having heard. His gaze continued as 
 blank and idiotic as before and the enquirer re- 
 peated his question in a louder and more deter- 
 mined key. 
 
 "Would you mind telling me which is No. 10?" 
 he said, and supplemented the appeal with a light 
 tap on the shoulder. The check-suited one there- 
 upon slowly brought his eyes down to the level 
 of the speaker's face and as slowly uncrossed his 
 legs and unfolded his arms. 
 
 "Now then, young spark!" he drawled, with 
 an indescribable accent which savoured about 
 equally of Whitechapel and New York. "You 
 stop that or you'll find yourself in Queer Street. 
 Can't you let a fellow sleep?" 
 
 The young man smiled. "I didn't know you 
 were asleep," he said. "Your eyes were wide 
 open." 
 
 "The blighter who goes to sleep with his eyes 
 shut in these parts deserves all that's coming to 
 him," was the sententious answer. "The trick is 
 to look as wide awake as an ol' clothes man even
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 87 
 
 if you're as sleepy as a dormouse. What's your 
 wants, young man?" 
 
 The stranger referred to the newspaper cut- 
 ting. 
 
 "I want No. 10," he said; "but I can't find any 
 number of any sort. Would you perhaps inform 
 me" 
 
 "Now, don't begin your little yarn all over 
 again," the little man in the check suit interrupted. 
 "If you hadn't landed on a soft hearted little bit 
 of goods like me all that parlez-vouing would have 
 cost you your hat. Say, 'Where's No. 10. or 
 I'll punch your head till your own loving mother 
 won't know you' and we'll get to business." 
 
 The stranger laughed. 
 
 "When I've done punching your head you won't 
 know No. 10 from No. 1000," he said genially, 
 "so for both our sakes you'd better hurry up and 
 tell me what I want before it's too late." 
 
 The man by the lamp-post rubbed his hands, 
 tilted his brimless hat to the back of his close 
 cropped head and winked. 
 
 "That's the spirit!" he said. "My, though! 
 You are a sight!" 
 
 "I beg your pardon ?" In accents of some 
 offence. 
 
 "In polite language you're a highly coloured 
 one. No. 10 will fall flat when it sees you." The 
 little man produced a packet of doubtful looking
 
 88 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 cigars and, selecting one, bit off the end with pre- 
 cision. "I doubt if No. 10 has seen a clean collar 
 this side of 1900," he went on meditatively, "and 
 for friendship's sake I reckon I oughtn't to expose 
 it to the shock. Just put up your coat, will you, 
 and give your hat a tilt and then we'll get along." 
 
 The young man obeyed, though somewhat re- 
 luctantly, and the results of his alterations appear- 
 ing to give satisfaction, the curiously assorted pair 
 started down the street in search of No. 10. The 
 check-suited Cicerone sauntered on ahead, his 
 hands in his pockets, the cigar sticking out of the 
 corner of his mouth, his swagger suggesting that 
 what didn't belong to him in 'Urbert Street didn't 
 count for much. The young man followed him 
 with an amateur appearance of rakishness, which 
 in his present company and surroundings was de- 
 cidedly ineffectual. Half way down the street his 
 new acquaintance glanced over his shoulder. 
 
 "What's your game at No. 10?" he asked. 
 "You haven't mistaken it for the Ritz, have you? 
 All the palatial apartments down this avenue have 
 been taken by the nobility months ago." 
 
 "I'm not looking for apartments," the young 
 man replied uneasily. "I'm looking for er a 
 certain Mrs. Jubbers." 
 
 "Wall, I guess you're not the only one whose 
 looking for her," was the cryptic answer. "Old 
 friend, eh?"
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 89 
 
 "Er I hope not I meant I don't know 
 not exactly. It's a sort of er business affair " 
 
 "Oh, that's all right, Innocent. I don't want 
 to know your secrets. What's your title anyhow? 
 I know Mrs. Jubbers like I know my own mother, 
 and I'd better introduce you as something or 
 other." 
 
 The visitor arranged his tie nervously. 
 
 "You can call me er Harris," he said. 
 
 "Couldn't you make it a lord?" his companion 
 suggested. "Mrs. Jubbers is a trifle particular, 
 as you might say." 
 
 "I'm afraid I can't oblige for the present I'm 
 just plain Harris." 
 
 "Oh come, it's not as bad as that! Never 
 mind, I'll make you into a Book incog. She won't 
 believe me anyhow. My name's Washington 
 Jones, sometime American Citizen at present en- 
 joying a rest cure. Kindly step this way, Your 
 Grace." 
 
 He pushed open the door of one of the dirtiest 
 dwellings and led the way down a narrow passage 
 with the air of being very much at home. The 
 young man who called himself Harris followed 
 meekly, and a moment later the pair were brought 
 to a halt by a door which was locked on the inside. 
 Washington Jones whistled twice and, after a 
 short delay, the key was turned and the two visi- 
 tors found themselves in a low-ceilinged room
 
 90 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 whose atmosphere was at that moment almost 
 opaque with the fumes of bad tobacco. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Jubbers," Washington Jones 
 said loudly and distinctly, "permit me to present 
 an old friend of mine to you, The Dook of 
 Harrisville just arrived from the Continong. 
 My dear Dook, this is Mrs. Jubbers, whose ac- 
 quaintance you are so anxious to make." 
 
 The newly created "Dook" bowed to a stout 
 slovenly dressed old woman who had loomed out 
 of the clouds of smoke and now advanced upon 
 him with a tottering step. She had only one eye 
 the other, judging from appearances, had been 
 lost in honourable warfare but the remaining 
 orb was extraordinarily bright and none too 
 friendly. It flashed over the "Dock's" person 
 with a rapidity that seemed to take in every detail 
 from the pearl scarf-pin downwards. 
 
 "Very 'appy to meet 'is Grace," she said with 
 a suspicious leer. "Mr. Jones' friends are always 
 welcome. Take a seat, me lord." She proffered 
 a chair, of whose four legs only three could be 
 safely counted on, and wiped the seat. "We're 
 'umble folk, your Grace," she mumbled on, "but 
 wery 'onest and wot we 'ave we gladly shares with 
 others. Make yourself at 'ome." During this 
 speech the bright eye had been shooting wireless 
 telegrams at Washington Jones, who winked sig- 
 nificantly.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 91 
 
 "His Grace has come on vury important busi- 
 ness," he said. "Shouldn't be surprised if it was 
 something in your line, Mrs. Jubbers." 
 
 The "Dook" coughed again either out of ner- 
 vousness or because the atmosphere was getting 
 too much for him. 
 
 "Er yes I have come on business," he ad- 
 mitted. "In fact, it is such important business 
 that I'm afraid I must ask for a private interview. 
 I'm sure Mr. Jones will understand when I say 
 that the happiness of more than one person hangs 
 in the balance." 
 
 The American Citizen raised an eyebrow and 
 waved his hand, expressing thereby both interest 
 and comprehension for the delicacy of the situa- 
 tion. 
 
 "Why, sure," he agreed. "Say the word, sir, 
 and yours truly will be gone in the twinkle of an 
 eye." 
 
 "Mr. Jones is an old friend," Mrs. Jubbers 
 interposed sharply. "There ain't nothing wot 
 consens me wot 'e cawn't 'ear. Just you sit tight, 
 Mr. Jones." 
 
 Mr. Jones obediently "sat tight," though evi- 
 dently undesirous of seeming to intrude, and the 
 "Dook" fidgeted uneasily. 
 
 "Can I rely er upon your entire discretion?" 
 he asked at last. 
 
 "I am sometimes an American Citizen and
 
 92 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 always a man of honour," returned Washington 
 Jones. "You can trust me like yourself, sir." 
 
 The "Dook's" smile was a trifle rueful. 
 
 "As a matter of a fact I came here after having 
 come across this newspaper cutting," he began at 
 last. "If you wouldn't mind glancing over it you 
 will see how I came to know your name." 
 
 "You can read out wot it says," Mrs. Jubbers 
 retorted gloomily. "I ain't got no time for mak- 
 ing out that sort o' rubbish." 
 
 "It's an er police-court report," the "Book" 
 explained with increasing nervousness. "I will 
 quote er strictly. 'Henrietta Jubbers, said to 
 be of No. 10, Herbert Street, E. C. and already 
 familiar to the public in connection with the no- 
 torious swindler William Brown, was charged yes- 
 terday before Mr. James Hawley with drunken- 
 ness and disorder ' ' 
 
 "Look 'ere, young man," Mrs. Jubbers inter- 
 rupted, her clenched first within an inch of her 
 visitor's nose, "if you're one o' them tee-totlars 
 or Prisoner's Friends you can take yourself off " 
 
 "But I'm not," the "Dook" protested vigor- 
 ously. 
 
 "Well, wot's it got to do with you if I gets 
 'awled up before the beak? Ain't it enough to 
 'ave one's fizzical weaknesses mistook by a bloom- 
 in' cop wot doesn't know when a lidy 'as a fainting 
 fit, without a lot of busybodies acomin' in after-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 93 
 
 wards with their notebooks and noospapers? You 
 clear out you !" 
 
 "But I don't care a brass farthing for all that !" 
 the "Book" insisted. "It isn't you I have come 
 about. It's the other part of the business. It 
 says here that you are connected with William 
 Brown, and that's why I want to meet you, Mrs. 
 Jubbers." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Mrs. Jubbers 
 was studying her visitor with all the intensity of 
 her one bright eye, and her toothless mouth was 
 pursed up into a very dubious expression. 
 
 "Look 'ere, Mr. Book," she said slowly. "I 
 don't much care for the looks of you and that's 
 the truth. Fine gents of your sort don't come our 
 way, and when they do we scents mischief. If 
 you're a bloomin' tec you'd better clear out 'fore I 
 calls me friends in the next room " 
 
 "I'm not what you call a 'tec,' " the "Book" in- 
 terrupted with despairing firmness. "I'm in a 
 tight and uncomfortable hole and want to get out 
 of it if I can. I'll make this much clear right 
 away I haven't anything to do with the police 
 and I don't want to have. They're the last people 
 I want to meet at the present moment." 
 
 His earnestness, combined with an expression 
 of genuine distress, carried partial conviction. 
 Mr. Washington Jones twisted his features into a 
 non-committal grimace.
 
 94 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "If you take my advice you'll talk out straight, 
 sir," he said. "If you want a house broke or a 
 friend doped you can say so and we shan't be 
 shocked, we've sympathy for those little human 
 weaknesses, haven't we, Mrs. Jubbers?" 
 
 Mrs. Jubbers assented with a nod of her un- 
 tidy head, but the "Book's" distress appeared to 
 increase. 
 
 "I don't want anything of that sort," he said. 
 "I simply want to find out if you know William 
 Brown who I believe goes under the alias of Slip- 
 pery Bill. I assure you the matter is of the ut- 
 most importance to me." 
 
 Mrs. Jubbers considered. She was evidently 
 considering very earnestly indeed, for her eye had 
 become positively piercing. 
 
 "I don't know wot you mean by 'aliasses'," she 
 said at last, "but I know of a fellow called Slip- 
 pery Bill. I don't know 'im" she added hastily, 
 "there aren't many who do and I don't know 
 where 'e is either." 
 
 "But you said when you gave evidence that he 
 carried a talisman with him by which he could be 
 identified." 
 
 Mrs. Jubbers glanced uneasily about the room. 
 
 " 'E 'ad something of that sort," she admitted, 
 "a kind of charm 'is Lucky Pig 'e called it. 'E 
 always 'ad it with 'im, so they say. 'E said it 
 kept the cops off."
 
 95 
 
 The "Dook" put his hand in his pocket and 
 drew out a minute object between his finger and 
 thumb. 
 
 "Is that it?" he said faintly. 
 
 Mrs. Jubbers drew nearer. It was a small gold 
 pig such as ladies have been known to wear on 
 their bracelets, with a curly tail and peculiarly 
 staring eyes to all appearances a harmless 
 enough ornament. But it caused Mrs. Jubbers to 
 utter a croaking exclamation and the "Dook" was. 
 actually trembling. 
 
 "That's it," Mrs. Jubbers said emphatically. "I 
 couldn't mistake it. I sawed it once never you 
 mind where and I'd know it among a hundred of 
 'em. I don't believe there's another pig with a 
 look like that in all London." 
 
 "Then it's true!" said the "Dook" under his 
 breath. 
 
 Mrs. Jubbers and Mr. Washington Jones 
 stared at him. The perspiration had broken out 
 on his forehead and his pleasant face was per- 
 fectly colourless. 
 
 "Look here," said Mr. Jones, "you'd better 
 make a clean breast of it. What's the matter 
 with you?" 
 
 The "Dook" passed his handkerchief over his 
 face. 
 
 "That's the matter with me," he said, pointing
 
 96 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 a trembling finger at the pig which was now lying 
 on the table. "That pig is mine." 
 
 "Lor' !" from Mrs. Jubbers. 
 
 "Holy Jimjams !" from Mr. Washington Jones. 
 
 "Looks nasty for someone," Mrs. Jubbers re- 
 flected. Her siriisterly alert eye expressed close 
 mental concentration. "Seems to me," she went 
 on, "if that there pig belongs to you " 
 
 "I don't know that it does " the "Book" inter- 
 posed hastily. "I only found it I mean it was 
 in my pocket " he floundered. He was aware 
 that his audience had exchanged a significant 
 glance, and that he had already hopelessly com- 
 promised himself. "You see, the terrible position 
 I'm in," he said. 
 
 " 'Orrible," said Mrs. Jubbers. 
 
 "You " said Washington Jones pointing his 
 finger, "are the French Count who was found on 
 a doctor's doorstep. I know all about you, sir. 
 A case of loss of memory, eh what!" 
 
 The "Book" nodded, conscious that the less he 
 said the better. 
 
 "No clue, eh?" 
 
 "Except the pig, it seems," Mrs. Jubbers re- 
 marked. 
 
 She stood with her arms akimbo. Her eyelid 
 had dropped a little over her eye giving her an 
 expression of extraordinary cunning. 
 
 "I tell you wot it is," she said. "There's only
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 97 
 
 one man 'oos bound to know what you are or 
 what you aren't and that's Slippery Bill's own 
 brother, Garge. 'E's in the 'ouse at this very mo- 
 ment. I'll go an' ask 'im to come and 'ave a look 
 at you." 
 
 "Please don't bother him!" the young man 
 begged, evidently grown anxious to postpone the 
 decisive moment, but Mrs. Jubbers was obdurate. 
 
 " 'E'll be mighty glad," she said. " 'E's been 
 worritting about Bill till I thought 'e'd go off his 
 nut; powerful fond of Bill, is Garge. Now just 
 you wait quietly there whilst I bring 'im along." 
 
 The "Dook" waited. There was indeed nothing 
 else for him to do as Mr. Washington Jones was 
 leaning against the door which led out on to the 
 passage and showed not the slightest intention of 
 moving. There was an awkward pause. The 
 visitor began to pace restlessly about the room 
 and the American Citizen watched him through 
 the thickening clouds of tobacco. 
 
 "Queer thing that I should have spotted you as 
 a 'Dook'," he said presently. "Of course I 
 notched you a point too high but I've a first rate 
 nose for blue blood. What's your name, Count?" 
 
 "Beaulieu," the unhappy nobleman answered, 
 "but don't talk about it. It haunts me." 
 
 Mr. Washington Jones gave vent to a sound 
 which might have passed for a laugh. 
 
 "Wall, I guess you might be haunted by worse,
 
 98 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 dear boy," he said. "What price 'Slippery Bill' 
 
 The young man made a gesture of despair but 
 he had no opportunity to give further expression 
 to his feelings for at that moment the door 
 opened. Mrs. Jubbers entered followed by a tall 
 flashily dressed individual whose face, as soon as 
 he perceived the visitor, lit up with a bewilder- 
 ment and ecstasy which should have been highly 
 flattering but, instead, appeared to cause the sup- 
 posed Count de Beaulieu considerable alarm. He 
 retreated precipitately before the newcomer's 
 eager advance. 
 
 "My dear brother!" the latter said, husky with 
 emotion. "My dear, dear brother 1" 
 
 It was a touching scene. The Count sank feebly 
 on the unsteady chair whilst his new-found rela- 
 tion bent over him and clasped his hand with emo- 
 tional fervour. 
 
 "And to think that I'd given you up for lawst," 
 Slippery Bill's brother went on brokenly. "To 
 think all the time I was 'alf mad with grief you 
 was lahdy-dahding it as a bloomin' Count ! Ain't 
 that enough to wring tears out of a beak? Ain't 
 that tragic?" 
 
 "Yes," the prodigal one admitted faintly. 
 
 "And you don't seem a bit pleased!" George 
 observed with a gentle note of reproach. "Aren't 
 you glad to see your brother again, Bill?"
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 99 
 
 The Count looked up. 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry," he said. "I thought Mrs. 
 Jubbers had told you I've lost my memory. I 
 can't remember anybody not even myself. It 
 was a blow on the head that did it." 
 
 "One of those nasty cops," George remarked 
 sympathetically. "And when you came round you 
 found you was a Count. Now ain't that luck." 
 
 "Luck!" said Mrs. Jubbers solemnly. "It's 
 genius!" 
 
 George nodded. 
 
 "You always did land on your feet, Bill," he 
 said. "Fancy you regular toff with 'caps of dibs. 
 I 'ope you 'ave 'caps of dibs, brother?" 
 
 "The Count de Beaulieu has," the prodigal 
 answered heavily. "I haven't." He picked up 
 the Lucky Pig and put it back in his pocket. 
 "Well, there's nothing for it but to go back and 
 own up," he said with a cheerless little laugh. 
 
 "Wot?" The exclamation came in the same 
 breath from George and Mrs. Jubbers. Mr. 
 Washington Jones looked mildly amused. Mrs. 
 Jubbers threw up her hands. 
 
 "You don't mean to say you are goin' to make 
 a fool of yourself like that!" she said. 
 
 "Fool of myself? Why, I can't let things go 
 on as they are. It wouldn't be honest." 
 
 The word caused a shout of rude laughter.
 
 ioo ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 George lent over the table in an attitude which 
 suggested acute physical suffering. 
 
 '"Onest!" he groaned. "Why, Bill, you've 
 never been such an 'orrid thing in your life ! Ever 
 since you was a little five year old nipper and 
 pinched those apples off Mother Grumbage you've 
 been up to something or other. Old bird, you 
 don't say that blow 'as spilt you for the profes- 
 sion?" 
 
 "It seems so," the Count admitted ruefully. 
 "At any rate I can't go on with this business." 
 
 "Gammon and spinach ! You sit tight, brother ! 
 If you're copped you might as well be copped for 
 being a Count as for that last little affair of 
 yours at Dr. wot-'is name Frohlocken " 
 
 The Count fairly writhed. 
 
 "That's the man who has befriended me," he 
 said. "It's too awful." 
 
 "Don't take on!" George pleaded. "The old 
 josser got 'is silver back. I read about it in the 
 pipers. You must 'ave been in a 'urry or lawst 
 your nerve or something, for you chucked it down 
 one of the areas. Besides, why shouldn't you be a 
 Count, bless your 'eart? Don't you remember 
 the time you was the Prince Donowaski and 
 pinched the Duchess' diamonds?" 
 
 "No I can't say I do. But I suppose all that 
 explains why the thing comes so easily to me."
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 101 
 
 George brought his hand down with a heavy 
 slap on the drooping shoulders. 
 
 "Of course it does, you old blighter!" he said. 
 "Why, you've got the manners and the haccent of 
 the 'ighest in the land. Just you stick to it 
 that's wot I say!" 
 
 "I can't!" the Count answered hoarsely. 
 "Even if I wanted to I can't. There's the girl." 
 
 "The girl! Oh, my, is there a girl in it too?" 
 
 "The Mademoiselle de Melville my our 
 the Count de Beaulieu's fiancee." 
 
 George whistled. Mr. Washington Jones 
 screwed up one eye. 
 
 "Say, that's a knock-out," he admitted. "I 
 suppose she'll blow on you she's bound to." 
 
 "No, she won't at least she hasn't." 
 
 "Hasn't? Speak plain, will you?" 
 
 "I mean " the Count appeared to have some 
 difficulty in controlling his voice. "I mean that 
 she has seen me and and well, she thinks I am 
 the Count!" 
 
 The three stared at him and then at each 
 other. 
 
 "Wall, I reckon I'm done," said Washington 
 Jones. 
 
 "'As she 'ad a blow on the 'ead too?" Mrs. 
 Jubbers suggested. 
 
 "I can't explain it," the Count said hopelessly. 
 "I can only think that there is some resemblance
 
 102 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 between the Count and myself and that long ab- 
 sence has weakened her memory. At any rate 
 there she is and, unless I tell the truth, we shall 
 be married this afternoon by special license." 
 
 "Wot about the relations?" Mrs. Jubbers en- 
 quired. 
 
 "There aren't any. Mine the Count's are 
 dead and hers well, to tell the truth she's run 
 away from her people in France in order to marry 
 me the Count, I mean. That's what's so con- 
 foundedly awkward. For the present Dr. Froh- 
 locken has taken her into his protection, but that 
 can't go on." 
 
 George shook his head. 
 
 "That's luck and genius," he said admiringly. 
 "You go ahead, old bird. You stick to it. It's 
 the best thing you've been in for years." 
 
 "But Mademoiselle de Melville " 
 
 "If she's satisfied, wot's the odds? Maybe the 
 real Count is dead and buried and you're quite a 
 nice-looking fellow. Wot's she like?" 
 
 For the first time the Count's face lit up with 
 genuine satisfaction. 
 
 "She's splendid!" he said simply, but emphat- 
 ically. 
 
 "Well then sit tight!" 
 
 "I can't!" 
 
 "If you don't " said George with his red face 
 very close to his brother's "if you don't I shall
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 103 
 
 whistle up the cops for you. I won't 'ave a pi- 
 face for a relation. It's a disgraice I'd never 
 live it down and I won't try." 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu looked about him. He 
 was not a weak young man, either physically or 
 mentally the cut of his jaw and the build of his 
 shoulders testified to considerable strength both 
 of body and mind but he evidently recognised 
 the hopelessness of his situation. He wavered. 
 George grinned. 
 
 "After all, a fellow with your reputation don't 
 need to be so mealy," he said. 
 
 The Count picked up his hat. 
 
 "No, I suppose not," he said in a completely 
 changed tone. "I quite see that under the cir- 
 cumstances my idea of turning over a new leaf, 
 as it were, was absurd. Paradoxically, there^s 
 only one way out of this business and that is to 
 stick to it. Anyhow I know now for certain who 
 I am and that's something to be grateful for. 
 I'm much obliged, Mrs. Jubbers. Good-morn- 
 
 He went straight to the door and the Amer- 
 ican Citizen, after a moment's hesitation, shifted. 
 Both men followed the visitor into the street and 
 there was a moment's awkward silence. The 
 Count looked at his brother with a kind of iron* 
 ical regret on his handsome face. 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry to appear so indifferent," he
 
 104 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 said, "but you understand how it is. Upon my 
 word, I was really beginning to believe in myself 
 in which case things would have been very dif- 
 ferent and in fact it's been rather a shock all 
 round." 
 
 George waved his hand. 
 
 "Don't you worry, my bantam," he said. "I'm 
 not hurt. Just lend me a quid and all shall be 
 forgotten. Thank you, brother ! You are a born 
 nobleman. I shan't lose you again in a hurry!" 
 He laughed uproariously at his own significant 
 joke and the Count hurried down the street as 
 though to escape the sound. At the turning he 
 was overtaken by Mr. Washington Jones. The 
 expression on that gentleman's clean-shaven wiz- 
 ened little face had become startlingly and almost 
 uncannily astute. He pinched the Count's arm 
 and his wink was the last thing in significance. 
 
 "Young man," he said, "you're in for a big 
 business and I have my holy doubts as to whether 
 you'll be able to pull it off. If things get too 
 sultry just you drop a line to Washington Jones, 
 U. S. A., at present of No. 10 Herbert Street, 
 and don't you get the jumps if you see me flitting 
 round occasionally. You can take it from me" 
 and he put his finger solemnly to his nose, 
 "things aren't always what they seem." 
 
 And with that he swaggered off in the opposite 
 direction.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MADEMOISELLE THEODORA DE MELVILLE sat 
 in the sitting-room which Dr. Frohlocken had va- 
 cated for her on her arrival on the previous day. 
 The room had once been his "Museum" and in 
 spite of pathetic attempts with flowers, gim-crack 
 vases and other supposed feminine trifles it still 
 bore the impress of its origin. A forgotten skull 
 grinned mirthlessly over the doorway and some- 
 thing in a bottle what it was the new inhabitant 
 had not cared to enquire adorned the chimney- 
 piece. Yet to all appearances Mademoiselle 
 Theodora felt herself at home, even if she was not 
 particularly happy. She was arrayed in a dark 
 blue tailor-made costume which showed up her 
 graceful figure to perfection and the gloomy room 
 and heavy depressing furniture formed an admir- 
 able background for her fair, somewhat fragile 
 beauty. She had taken her place before the fire 
 and her attitude was sufficiently haughty and self- 
 possessed to make the young man opposite her 
 feel less at his ease than he liked. To cover his 
 discomfort he removed his lavender-coloured 
 
 105
 
 106 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 gloves and smoothed them out carefully on his 
 knee. 
 
 "It was deuced nice of you to send me that 
 card, Theo," he drawled. "I was getting a bit 
 nervous about you I promise you I was." 
 
 "I have no doubt," she said coldly and iron- 
 ically. 
 
 "You don't need to be nasty. My alarm was 
 genuine " 
 
 " and financial," she suggested. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "I certainly don't pretend that finance played 
 no role in my anxiety," he admitted. "My duns 
 are pressing me worse and worse every day, and 
 if relief doesn't come from somewhere the crash 
 will and well, I've explained the sequel to you 
 before." 
 
 "Very often and at some length." Her face 
 was impassive and only a slight tension about the 
 mouth betrayed that her teeth were hard set. "I 
 don't think we need discuss the matter any fur- 
 ther," she went on slowly. "It only makes me 
 angry and it does no good to either of us." 
 
 "Oh come !" he said, stroking his little fair 
 moustache, "you've pulled it off splendidly so far, 
 Theo" 
 
 "I've pulled off nothing so far," she interrupted 
 passionately, "and what is more I am not going 
 to. That is what I wanted to tell you and why
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 107 
 
 I sent for you. Now you know. I meant to help 
 you I started out with the full intention of car- 
 rying the wretched business through but but now 
 I can't." 
 
 "Why not?" he asked. His small vacant-look- 
 ing face had flushed with consternation, but his 
 mouth was vicious and a little threatening. She 
 looked at him steadily, her white slender fingers 
 interlocked. 
 
 "Because I don't quite see after all why I 
 should marry a man I don't care for," she said. 
 
 "Oh, I see. You might have thought of that 
 before. My dear Theo it's too pretty an ex- 
 cuse. I simply don't believe it. You're afraid." 
 
 "That is not truel" 
 
 Her companion smiled satirically. 
 
 "Are you quite, quite sure? Is there not at the 
 bottom of that scrupulous heart a little fear of 
 breaking the eleventh commandment l Thou shalt 
 not be found out' ?" 
 
 "None," she answered firmly. "I had already 
 counted the cost and you ought to know that I am 
 not a coward. From that point of view the situa- 
 tion is unchanged. There remains the Count de 
 Beaulieu." 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 She got up and stood very erect. Her mouth 
 trembled at the corners, but she spoke without 
 faltering.
 
 io8 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "I don't like him," she said, "and I simply do 
 not choose to cheat him." 
 
 "My dear Theo, if you will excuse my saying so, 
 those two statements are somewhat inconsistent. 
 Or do you only cheat the people you are fond of? 
 In any case, who is proposing to cheat him? He 
 is engaged to marry Mademoiselle Theodora de 
 Melville and Mademoiselle Theodora, fully 
 authorized so to speak, presents herself to be mar- 
 ried. What more do you want?" 
 
 "It's unfair to him," she persisted. "I don't 
 like him, but it is taking a cruel advantage of his 
 misfortune. He doesn't know me he has for- 
 gotten everyone. If he marries me it is out of 
 chivalry out of nobility " 
 
 " for which characteristics he has incurred 
 your displeasure" he put in with a sneer. 
 
 "I detest you !" she said deliberately. 
 
 "I know that, dear Theo. But frankly, all you 
 have said is beside the point. We counted on his 
 chivalry and nobility and all the rest of it, and 
 now you discover that these virtues are a stum- 
 bling block. Women are never satisfied." 
 
 "I, at least, am satisfied to go no further," she 
 retorted. 
 
 Her companion was silent for a moment. He 
 was evidently at a loss for an answer and the en- 
 trance of the butler with a letter tray caused him 
 to give a smothered sigh of relief.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 109 
 
 "The Doctor has told me to give you this tele- 
 gram, madam," the man said. "It has just come 
 for him and he would be glad to see madam 
 your ladyship as soon as possible." 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 She took up the opened telegram and, when the 
 butler had left the room, unfolded it. She 
 glanced over the contents and then let the flimsy 
 paper flutter to the ground and laughed. The 
 laugh was a somewhat cheerless one, and her com- 
 panion bent down and picked up the apparent 
 cause with delicate fingers. 
 
 "I can't read French," he said. "What's it all 
 about?" 
 
 "It is from the Count de Melville," she said 
 in a voice sharp with bitterness. "He begs to 
 inform Dr. Frohlocken that he has every reason 
 to suppose from the description that the person 
 whom Dr. Frohlocken has protected is his rene- 
 gade daughter. Under the circumstances, how- 
 ever, he forbids any further communication on the 
 subject. In other words the Countess Theodora 
 is disowned." 
 
 The young man with the lavender gloves smiled. 
 
 "Most satisfactory," he said. 
 
 She turned on him furiously. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Just what I say. The Count is nailed. His 
 chivalry and nobility won't allow him to desert a
 
 no ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 lonely maiden who has been flung off by her family 
 for his sake. I see myself at St. Mary's this 
 afternoon after all." 
 
 She looked at him. A vivid flush had mounted 
 her cheeks and her grey eyes had grown hard and 
 bright. 
 
 "You miscalculate," she said. "You underesti- 
 mate me." 
 
 "Does that mean you are going to back out?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Her companion put his hand in his pocket and 
 drew out a couple of letters which he handed to 
 her. 
 
 "I don't make any appeal for myself," he said 
 in a businesslike tone. "I know well enough that 
 if the ocean swallowed me up to-morrow you 
 would only be too glad. But the letters will plead 
 for themselves. Pray read them then you can 
 decide." 
 
 She took the letters from his hand reluctantly, 
 with her eyes on his face as though she suspected 
 some trick, and carried them to the window. Ten 
 minutes passed during which the young man stared 
 absently and apparently indifferently into the fire. 
 Then Mademoiselle Theodora came back and 
 faced him. She was very pale now and the black 
 eyelashes were wet with recent tears. 
 
 "You are very clever," she said with a little
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY in 
 
 broken laugh. "I congratulate you. Had your 
 talent been directed in another channel " 
 
 He waved his hand. 
 
 "Don't preach, Theo. I've heard all that be- 
 fore. What are you going to do about it?" 
 
 For a minute she said nothing, battling for her 
 voice. Then she broke down. Her sobs were in- 
 audible but their violence shook her slender frame 
 from head to foot and she leant against the man- 
 telpiece with her face buried in her arms. Her 
 companion rose to his feet. His expression was 
 coolly triumphant. 
 
 "Well?" he said. 
 
 "For their sake I shall go through with it," 
 she said unsteadily. 
 
 "Thank you." He took up his hat. "I shall 
 hope to hear from you in the next few days as 
 soon as possible in fact and afterwards you can 
 arrange to introduce me as your old friend, Mr. 
 Cecil Saunders." He laughed lightly. "Well, 
 good-bye, Theo. Good luck and all happiness!" 
 
 She made no answer and he lounged out of 
 the room and down stairs. In the hall he passed 
 Dr. Frohlocken who stared at him suspiciously, 
 but Mr. Cecil Saunders was evidently not a man 
 to be easily upset, and he continued on his way 
 undisturbed. 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken waited until the hall door had 
 banged on the unknown guest and then hurried
 
 ii2 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 upstairs and softly opened the door of his old 
 "Museum." He peered in. Mademoiselle Theo- 
 dora was still by the mantelpiece and the sound of 
 her uneven breathing told him even more than 
 her attitude of complete abandonment. The torn 
 telegram lay at her feet and the Doctor nodded 
 and scowled in mingled sympathy and annoyance. 
 "Damned idiot!" he muttered and, closing the 
 door, crept away as softly as he had come.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 HE was a rogue and he consorted with rogues. 
 At the tender age of five he had "pinched" apples 
 from some harmless body rejoicing in the name of 
 Mother Grumbage. He had posed as a prince 
 and decamped with the diamonds of a duchess. 
 He had stolen inadvertently it is true the sil- 
 ver of a man destined to befriend him in the hour 
 of need and now, so it appeared, he had bribed 
 Luck herself into becoming an active partner in 
 his nefarious business. At any rate the fickle lady 
 had thrust him into his present position without 
 the slightest assistance from himself. In one 
 evening he, Slippery Bill, had become Count de 
 Beaulieu, a young and wealthy nobleman, engaged 
 to be married to a charming lady of equally ex- 
 alted station, and nobody had so far disputed his 
 position, not even the person most entitled to do 
 so. The whole thing was miraculous and scarcely 
 credible more than that it was altogether 
 splendid. As he stood hesitating on Dr. Froh 
 locken's doorstep he looked back on the last few 
 days as on a mad if not unpleasant dream. He 
 realised that for a man in his position he had done 
 
 "3
 
 H4 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 extremely well by himself that he had, in fact, 
 surpassed all previous records in high-class swin- 
 dling. Apple-pinching, fraudulent impersonations 
 and unwarranted removals of other people's prop- 
 erty were nothing compared to his present under- 
 taking always supposing that he had the nerve 
 to carry it through. But of that he was now al- 
 most certain. His previous career warranted it, 
 and as the door opened and he passed the now 
 obsequious James he felt his self-confidence rise. 
 The man who can bear the scrutiny of a butler 
 can brazen out anything. Nor did the sudden ap- 
 pearance of Dr. Frohlocken, more than ever wild- 
 haired and bad-tempered, cause him more than a 
 slight start of natural apprehension. He saw that 
 something unusual had happened, but unusual 
 things were becoming paradoxically common- 
 place and he was prepared for everything. 
 
 "What is the latest news?" he asked a trifle 
 wearily, for even surprises can become tedious. 
 "Who has turned up now?" 
 
 "For Heaven's sake go to her at once," Dr. 
 Frohlocken pleaded violently. "I've done it 
 I've put my foot in it when it comes to women 
 a woman like that I lose my head. Thank God 
 you are marrying her ! It was a telegram from 
 her parents and I sent it up without warning 
 absolutely idiotic and she's crying fainting I 
 don't know what "
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 115 
 
 De Beaulieu controlled the desire to finish the 
 flight of stairs in a couple of strides. Haste is 
 plebeian and, besides, there was no real need for 
 haste. If his heart thumped against his ribs it 
 was no doubt at the thought of the endless possi- 
 bilities which the telegram might contain and he 
 entered Mademoiselle de Melville's sitting-room 
 with as much nonchalance as he could muster. He 
 found her seated by the table, but as she heard the 
 door close she sprang up and faced him with 
 flushed and tear-stained cheeks which put all his 
 artificial sangfroid to flight. He came impulsively 
 to her side. 
 
 "The Doctor told me that you had had bad 
 news," he said. "Is it anything very serious? I 
 am so awfully sorry." 
 
 "Bad news?" she sobbed and stared at him 
 blankly. "Who told you? How do you know?" 
 
 "The doctor told me that you had received a 
 telegram from your people," he explained some- 
 what taken aback. 
 
 "Of course." She passed her handkerchief ner- 
 vously over her burning cheeks. "I had forgotten, 
 yes, of course, he it is. I suppose you ought 
 to see it." She picked up the crumpled bit of pink 
 paper and handed it to him. "There you can 
 read it for yourself." 
 
 But that was just what he could not do. The 
 pithy French phrases were Hebrew to him and
 
 n6 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 he stared at them with a mounting panic. Un- 
 doubtedly the moment had come to prove himself 
 worthy of his reputation, and yet he felt his cour- 
 age oozing slowly but perceptibly out of his finger 
 tips. 
 
 "I'm afraid I do not quite understand," he 
 hedged at last, feeling that, as the Count de 
 Beaulieu, he could neither ask to have the tele- 
 gram translated nor continue to stare at it in- 
 definitely. "Your parents er " 
 
 " have done just what I expected them to 
 do," she finished mercifully. "They have dis- 
 owned me." 
 
 "Good heavens!" His exclamation was not 
 quite sincere. He took up the telegram and stared 
 at it again as though he could not believe his eyes 
 and, as he did so, he was overtaken by an impulse 
 which, in him, was altogether insane. "Theo " 
 he began recklessly. "Theo supposing you went 
 back to them without me supposing you felt 
 that it was after all your duty to obey them 
 would they take you back?" 
 
 "No," she said bitterly, "they would not. You 
 ought to know them better." 
 
 He felt that he certainly ought. He felt also 
 that the treacherous demon, honesty, had nearly 
 led him into committing an irremediable blunder 
 and that he was in danger of blundering even
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 117 
 
 more effectually. Mademoiselle Theodora looked 
 at him and he flinched. 
 
 "Perhaps you mean that you have come to the 
 conclusion that our marriage is a mistake?" she 
 suggested slowly and sarcastically. 
 
 "Of course not!" he protested. "What an 
 idea ! My dear girl " 
 
 "It is not at all necessary to call me 'your dear 
 girl' in private," she interrupted, with angry eyes. 
 
 "Not necessary perhaps, but pleasant." He 
 felt that he was getting impertinent he was cer- 
 tainly angry. She had flicked him on the raw 
 though he could not have explained how, and he 
 had some difficulty in hiding the fact. 
 
 "I merely meant to observe that it would grieve 
 me to come between you and those to whom you 
 belong," he said. 
 
 "I belong to no one," she retorted. "I have 
 no one in the world except " 
 
 "Me?" he suggested with miraculously recov- 
 ered cheerfulness. 
 
 "Certainly not. Did I say so?" 
 
 "You did not say so, but circumstances " 
 
 "You are both stupid and ungenerous!" she 
 blazed. "You are constantly referring to my help- 
 less position and " 
 
 "Oh, I know I'm an utter scoundrel!" he in- 
 terrupted in a tone of profound injury which, on 
 closer inspection, might have seemed somewhat
 
 n8 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 unjustifiable, "but, after all, as we are to be mar- 
 ried this afternoon I think you might at least pre- 
 tend to have some feeling in the matter." 
 
 She looked at him with scornful, unhappy eyes. 
 
 "You do not expect me to love a man who has 
 completely forgotten my existence and who is only 
 marrying me out of a sense of duty, and whom I 
 am only marrying because I have to " 
 
 "Now you are getting nasty again!" he pro- 
 tested. 
 
 "I can't help it. I am nasty by nature. Besides 
 you insist on looking at things from the wrong 
 point of view. We arranged from the beginning 
 that it was to be a matter of convenience " 
 
 " until further notice," he interposed. 
 
 "No notice has been given or shall be given." 
 Her face grew hard and determined but there was 
 a strange, intent look in her eyes which would 
 have startled him had he seen it. "If you would 
 rather get out of your bargain there is still time," 
 she added slowly. 
 
 "Theodora !" He was now thoroughly aroused. 
 Her indifference piqued him. He had completely 
 forgotten that he was not the Count de Beaulieu 
 and had therefore no claim on her affection. He 
 had also completely forgotten that Mademoiselle 
 de Melville was a mere pawn in his vile conspiracy. 
 He felt increasingly injured and ill-used. "I shall
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 119 
 
 marry you if I have to hang for it!" he said be- 
 tween his teeth. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "In that case there is nothing more to be said." 
 
 There was a moment's angry silence. Then, 
 suddenly, he realised how pale and miserable she 
 looked in spite of her assumption of indifference 
 and his heart steeped though it doubtless was in 
 untold and untellable crimes softened unexpect- 
 edly. He came to her side and took her hand in 
 his. 
 
 "I've been a brute," he said. "I know there's 
 not the least reason why you should care for me 
 I'm not worth it. If the truth were told " he 
 choked and went on hurriedly "I don't ask for 
 much, Theo only if you could possibly trust 
 me" 
 
 "I do trust you !" she broke in passionately. "I 
 trust you so much that I am sorry for you. You 
 don't know what sort of a person you are marry- 
 ing." 
 
 "Nor do you," he said with truth and bitter- 
 ness. 
 
 "But I trust you all the same. Besides, of 
 course I know." 
 
 "Yes of course," he agreed hastily. "I meant 
 would you trust me anyhow whatever I did, 
 whatever I had done?" 
 
 "Yes," she said. She held out her hand. The
 
 120 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 Rogue hesitated. He was threatened by another 
 attack from his pet demon and he set his teeth 
 hard to hold back a headlong confession. None 
 of his previous villainies equalled this one of 
 that he was sure and yet she looked so helpless, 
 so lonely, so bewilderingly attractive in her frank 
 surrender. Besides he was a rogue and why in 
 the name of all the saints in the criminal calendar 
 should he not act as one? He took the out- 
 stretched hand and kissed it. But in the end the 
 Demon got the better of him. 
 
 "Heaven make me more worthy of you!" he 
 said solemnly. 
 
 And if it was the first prayer that he had ever 
 uttered it had, at least, the advantage of being 
 sincere. 
 
 That afternoon a quiet ceremony was per- 
 formed in an unfashionable church in the West 
 of London. The bride, as the ladies' papers 
 would have said had they had the chance, looked 
 charming in a blue cloth costume, and was given 
 away by Dr. Frohlocken, the well-known scientist. 
 What the bridegroom did or looked like is unim- 
 portant. There was only one uninvited guest at 
 the ceremony a person who sat at the end of the 
 church and played with his lavender-kid gloves 
 and the witnesses consisted of the charwoman and 
 her husband.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 121 
 
 Thus, "no just cause or impediment" interven- 
 ing, William Brown, alias Slippery Bill, became 
 not only a bogus Count but a most fraudulently 
 married man.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 "STAND back there! Stand back!" 
 
 The guard waved his flag, a shrill whistle rose 
 above the general hubbub, doors were banged, a 
 wild-haired gentleman of obviously Semitic de- 
 scent, who had been exchanging voluble farewells 
 with a first-class passenger, was hustled on one 
 side and the Northern Express glided trium- 
 phantly out of the station. 
 
 The first-class passenger sank back into his seat 
 with a sigh of relief. 
 
 "I'm glad that's over!" he said. 
 
 His companion removed her hat, smoothed her 
 fair hair and settled herself comfortably among 
 her rugs. 
 
 "Are you?" she then enquired with polite in- 
 terest. 
 
 "Getting married is such a business," he ex- 
 plained. 
 
 "It seems so. But this is my first experience." 
 
 Her tone was not encouraging. Moreover she 
 was staring out of the window, and it is notoriously 
 difficult to talk to a person who refuses to look at 
 
 122
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 123 
 
 you. The Count Louis de Beaulieu coughed to 
 cover his embarrassment. 
 
 "Quite comfortable?" he asked, after a mo- 
 ment, with a cheerful brevity which was intended 
 to impress both her and himself with his complete 
 mastery of the situation. 
 
 "Quite comfortable, thank you." 
 
 She glanced round at him this time, frigidly po- 
 lite, and it was his turn to take refuge in the out- 
 look. The outlook at that moment was even less 
 exhilarating. The lights of dirty tenements and 
 an occasional suburban station flashed past, and 
 for all he could see they were being whirled 
 through a monotonous darkness a fact which 
 made his appearance of absorbed interest some- 
 what farcical. He sighed ostentatiously, but as 
 no notice was taken of this distress signal he ven- 
 tured to glance cautiously at his vis-i-vis. She 
 had taken a magazine out of her hand-bag and 
 was reading, for all the world as though the busi- 
 ness of getting married was of daily occurrence. 
 She was also looking very pretty. The two cir- 
 cumstances, taken together, were intensely aggra- 
 vating. Monsieur de Beaulieu sighed again. 
 
 "I wish I had bought myself an evening pa- 
 per!" he burst out, with the abruptness of a long- 
 suppressed grievance. 
 
 "Why didn't you?" she enquired tranquilly.
 
 124 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 " 'Pon my word I thought it would seem 
 well callous on one's wedding day." 
 
 The shot was excellent, but the target merely 
 smiled and turned over another page of the mag- 
 azine. 
 
 "In an ordinary way your delicacy would be 
 justified," she said. "As it happens, however, 
 our marriage is exceptional." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "The circumstances attending it are excep- 
 tional, you will admit?" 
 
 "What circumstances?" he asked obstinately. 
 
 "Mon pauvre ami you know them as well as 
 I do." 
 
 Count Louis flinched. The slightest inclina- 
 tion on her part to burst into French terrified him. 
 Moreover her answer was conclusive and did not 
 admit of contradiction, and he was surprised at 
 his own dogged determination not to drop the 
 subject. 
 
 "It certainly is an extraordinary business," he 
 admitted meditatively as though continuing an 
 amicable discussion ; "I should never have dreamed 
 that night when I woke up on the doorstep with 
 a broken head and no idea what had happened 
 to me or who I was, that a fortnight later I should 
 be a Count and a married man." 
 
 "I suppose not," she agreed coldly. Never- 
 theless she looked up from her book with a faint
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 125 
 
 interest, and presently she added evidently much 
 against her own will: "It must be uncomfortable 
 to wake up and find that one has lost one's mem- 
 ory." 
 
 "I should think so! If it hadn't been for our 
 friend, Dr. Frohlocken, I have not the slightest 
 doubt that Constable X. would have bundled me 
 off to a pauper lunatic asylum. As it was " 
 
 " you found you were a missing French no- 
 bleman, heir to English estates and engaged to be 
 married to a runaway French girl whom you 
 couldn't even remember!" 
 
 He nodded not quite so much at his ease. 
 
 "I couldn't remember anything," he apolo- 
 gised, " not even myself. For all I knew I 
 might have been well anybody, you know." 
 
 The Countess Theodora smiled. 
 
 "The marriage part of the affair must have 
 been a shock," she said thoughtfully. 
 
 "Not when I saw you." 
 
 "I did not ask for compliments.'* 
 
 "I'm not trying to pay any." 
 
 Her smile became mocking. 
 
 "At any rate you behaved like a knight sans 
 peur et sans reproche. You married the runaway. 
 It was noble of you." 
 
 The Count blushed. 
 
 "Theodora " he began impulsively.
 
 126 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 She withdrew her hand not unkindly but with 
 decision. 
 
 "All that is in defiance of our compact," she 
 reminded him. 
 
 "Confound the compact!" 
 
 "No don't confound it it would be a pity. 
 It is an excellent compact so business-like and 
 simple. In marrying you, I settled the doubtful 
 matter of your identity; in marrying me well, 
 as a disowned runaway my advantage was obvious. 
 But sentimentalities on either side are quite un- 
 necessary." 
 
 "Then your girlhood's affection for me is 
 dead?" he enquired with profound gloom. 
 
 "Quite." 
 
 "Do you think there is any likelihood of a 
 resurrection?" 
 
 "None." 
 
 "Don't you think it's rather bad luck?" 
 
 "For whom?" 
 
 "For me, of course." 
 
 She gave a gay little laugh. 
 
 "Considering that you cannot even remember 
 me, the loss of my girlhood's affection cannot be 
 unbearable." 
 
 The Count said something under his breath 
 and turned his attention back to the window. 
 The Countess went on reading and a long silence 
 intervened. The Count was in a state usually
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 127 
 
 described by the patient as "hurt" and by other 
 people as "sulky"; the Countess appeared bliss- 
 fully indifferent. And thus half an hour passed. 
 Then the dining-car attendant made his appear- 
 ance. He made his appearance discreetly, after 
 a due rattling of the door handle, and his face, 
 when he saw fit to reveal it, was radiant with 
 knowing sympathy. 
 
 "Shall I reserve places for you, my lord?" he 
 asked. "Dinner in twenty minutes." 
 
 The Count glanced across at the Countess. 
 
 "I do not want any dinner," she said, "but go 
 yourself by all means. You are sure to be hun- 
 
 "I am not at all hungry," with much stiffness. 
 
 "No places needed then, my lord?" 
 
 "No, thank you." 
 
 The attendant looked from one to the other 
 with an air of exasperating understanding, mum- 
 bled a discreet "good-night" and retired. The 
 Countess watched his departure with a faint un- 
 
 easiness. 
 M 
 
 Why did he look at us like that?" she asked. 
 "Does he think we are suspicious characters?" 
 
 "Suspicious characters? Good heavens " 
 The Count started, but recovered himself with 
 great presence of mind. "Probably he thinks we 
 have had a lovers' quarrel," he added bitterly.
 
 128 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "That is one thing we shall never be able to 
 have," she retorted. 
 
 "Thank Goodness!" said the Count with the 
 hypocritical gratitude of frenzy. Whereupon the 
 Countess Theodora smiled, and her smile was the 
 last thing in sweetness. 
 
 "I knew you were really glad," she commented. 
 "I am delighted you too feel like that. It makes 
 things so much nicer. I am sure we shall be ex- 
 cellent friendsi in time." She looked at him 
 expectantly as though awaiting a further attack, 
 but the Count covered his face with his hand, ap- 
 parently overcome by a sudden weariness. "I 
 think I shall try to go to sleep too," she went on 
 with unalloyed affability. "Bon Soir, Louis." 
 
 "Bong Soir," in a gloomy growl. 
 
 She piled up her rugs to a comfortable pillow 
 and closed her eyes or appeared to close them. 
 As a matter of fact her long dark lashes concealed 
 a narrow aperture through which she studied her 
 vis-a-vis with malicious curiosity. Was he look- 
 ing at her between his fingers or was he not? 
 Either way he annoyed her, and her annoyance 
 was increased by her inability to come to a deci- 
 sion. The Count remained motionless; his breath- 
 ing was peaceful and regular, and his fingers were 
 suspicious. Once she fancied she caught the 
 gleam of his eyes, but a sudden opening of hers 
 produced not so much as a movement, and a few
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 129 
 
 minutes later the Countess Theodora dropped 
 into a heavy sleep. 
 
 The Count noted the fact, and he also noticed 
 that she had inadvertently commandeered his 
 rug and that the window was open. He bore 
 the consequent rapid descent of his own temper- 
 ature patiently, fearful of disturbing her, and, 
 lulled by the rumble and roar of the train, he re- 
 lapsed into a half-frozen state of torpor. His 
 mind continued to work, however, against his 
 will, and in a very jerky and disconnected fashion. 
 Jumbled and distorted visions of the past few 
 weeks rolled themselves out before his mental 
 eye like a mad cinematograph film. Policemen, 
 bogus counts, runaway, enraged French parents, 
 distraught doctors, a whole galaxy of victims 
 whom he had basely deceived danced for a mo- 
 ment into the limelight and disappeared. Last 
 of all one face appeared and remained a red, 
 grinning face, horribly familiar. The Count 
 shook himself, he rubbed his eyes. He told him- 
 self that he was dreaming and that he would 
 wake up in a moment but the face remained. 
 Its expression became increasingly, disgustingly 
 friendly. And then a hand added itself to the 
 nightmare and cautiously, steadily, the big win- 
 dow of the railway carriage was pushed farther 
 down. Under happier circumstances, the Count 
 would have pulled the alarm cord or at least taken
 
 130 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 some steps to draw attention to his visitor. As 
 it was he sat paralysed and tongue-tied and it was 
 left to the apparition to break the ice. 
 
 "'Ullo, Bill!" it whispered. 
 
 The Count tried to respond, but could only 
 give an imploring terror-stricken glance at his 
 wife. With a sigh of relief he saw that she was 
 still sleeping peacefully. 
 
 " 'Ullo I" the owner of the red face repeated. 
 "Ye don't seemed so pleased to see your brother 
 Garge as you ought, old bird. Give us a 'and!" 
 
 "For pity's sake!" the "old bird" managed to 
 gasp in a tragic undertone. "What on earth 
 are you doing out there? You'll be killed!" 
 
 "Not I, anxious one. I'll be through in a 
 jiffy." 
 
 "In? . You can't come in here!" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I can ! Just you open your little 
 peeps and watch me!" 
 
 One foot and then a leg were introduced 
 through the open window. The Count made a 
 frantic gesture of protest. But it was too late. 
 The nightmare had become an insurmountable 
 reality. 
 
 "Look here you can't you'll ruin me. If 
 you're found in here, it's all over with me " 
 
 "Sonny, trust your loving brother. Anyhow 
 I've got to come in. I've reckoned on you. This 
 bloomin' old bone-rattler's goin' a good sixty and
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 131 
 
 I can't hold on much longer. Now then softly' s 
 the word and mind your toes!" 
 
 He was through. So cautious and light had 
 been his movements that such noise as he had 
 made had lost itself in the steady rumble of the 
 express. Monsieur de Beaulieu rose involuntar- 
 ily to his feet. George smiled cheerfully upon 
 him. 
 
 "You don't need to look so blue, old bird," he 
 whispered. "Ain't it nat'ral and right that a man 
 should see 'is brother on the most solemn day of 
 'is life? Look 'ere 'ere's a wedding present 
 for you !" He slipped a small jewel case out of 
 his pocket, selected something from the contents 
 and pressed it into the Count's nerveless hand. 
 "You give that to your lady with brother George's 
 best love!" he said. "They're real they are. 
 I've got 'em from an old friend of mine Mrs. 
 Pagot-Chump 'oo is at the very moment lying 
 in a lovely swoon not two carriages off." 
 
 The Count examined the string of pearls in 
 blank consternation. 
 
 "Stolen!" he groaned. 
 
 "Now, Bill, don't you go using nasty expres- 
 sions or my feelings '11 be 'urt. I'm 'elping to 
 nationalise property that's all." 
 
 "The train will be searched " 
 
 "Not a bit of it. I left the carriage door 
 open. They'll be looking for me poor corpse
 
 IJ2, ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 along the line. Bright of me, wasn't it? Ain't 
 I worthy of you, Bill, dear?" 
 
 "Don't for mercy's sake don't! And look 
 here take these things back I can't I won't 
 have them " 
 
 "Why not, old bird?" 
 
 "I tell you I can't. It's impossible to ex- 
 plain but I'm trying to lead an honest life 
 and" 
 
 "Wot you, you old 'umbug you " 
 
 "Hush!" 
 
 The train had suddenly begun to slacken speed 
 and, apparently roused by the change of motion, 
 the Countess Theodora opened her eyes. In 
 questioning amazement she looked from her hus- 
 band to his companion and back again. 
 
 "Louis!" she exclaimed. "Qui est ce mon- 
 sieur?" 
 
 It was the first time she had addressed him 
 directly in the language which should have been 
 his own and the shock gave the Count back some- 
 thing of his presence of mind. 
 
 "Ce monsieur " he began, and then tottered 
 back into his own tongue, "Theodora this gen- 
 tleman I should say this man this eh per- 
 son is of course my valet " 
 
 It had come as an inspiration. He clutched at 
 it as a drowning man clutches at a straw and shut 
 his eyes. Nothing happened. When he opened
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 133 
 
 them again George was standing stiffly respectful, 
 his wife was looking at him in mild wonder. 
 
 "I didn't know you had a valet," she said. 
 
 "Nor did I I mean I hadn't, but the faithful 
 fellow would follow me " 
 
 "It's like this, your ladyship," George put in 
 humbly but with gentle firmness. "His lordship 
 left me behind to look after something he had or- 
 dered for your ladyship and which wasn't quite 
 ready, but it arrived in time for me to catch the 
 train and I thought it better to bring the parcel 
 straight to his lordship." 
 
 The Count stared open-mouthed. The aspi- 
 rates were in their place. The ruffianly George 
 had become miraculously and instantaneously an 
 edition de luxe of the proverbial "gentleman's 
 gentleman." 
 
 "Yes er that was how it was," the Count 
 assented hastily, in response to an admonitory 
 wink from George's off-side eye. "It was to have 
 been a little surprise for you, Theo in fact " 
 He broke off ; where the surprise was coming from 
 he had no idea. He felt that he was up to his 
 neck in a horrid quagmire of deceit from which 
 there was no escape. It was Theodora herself 
 who came to the rescue. 
 
 "Oh, Louis, how beautiful!" she said softly. 
 
 He followed the direction of her eyes. They 
 rested on his hand with an expression of incred-
 
 134 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 ulous delight, and he remembered. The pearls! 
 A storm of protest rushed to his lips, but stopped 
 there, checked by the utter futility of endeavour- 
 ing to explain a so hopelessly inexplicable situa- 
 tion. Paralysed with dismay, he watched her as 
 she held the string of perfectly matched pearls to 
 the light, a flush of genuine pleasure spreading 
 over her fair cheeks. 
 
 "Oh, Louis !" she said scarcely above a whisper. 
 "Did you really mean them for me are they 
 really mine to do just what I like with?" 
 
 The Count hesitated, gasping on the edge of 
 the precipice. A gentle but expressive pressure 
 from George's boot on his foot sent him headlong 
 into the depths. 
 
 "Of course, Theo," he said. "Of course." 
 
 The deed was done. By his own action he had 
 set the seal on his criminal career. He was once 
 more the Rogue, that much sought-after individ- 
 ual who rejoiced in the vulgar pseudonym of 
 "Slippery Bill," and all the make-believe glories 
 of his present position and dropped from him like 
 a borrowed mantle. And at that precise moment, 
 as though to complete his misery, the brakes 
 gripped and with an unpleasant jar the express 
 came to a standstill. Loud voices sounded from 
 the neighbouring carriages an excited guard hur- 
 ried down the corridor, gesticulating wildly, and
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 135 
 
 a no less excited female, armed with smelling 
 salts, followed in the rear. 
 
 But of all these matters the Countess Theo- 
 dore appeared blissfully unconscious. She looked 
 up shyly from her belated wedding gift, a faint 
 smile dawning in her eyes and about the corners 
 of her mouth. 
 
 "Thank you!" she said. 
 
 And for the first time since their marriage, 
 George having tactfully withdrawn, she kissed 
 him lightly on either cheek.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 "FANCY there having been a robbery on our 
 train!" said the Countess Theodora looking up 
 from "The Bunmouth Daily Chronicle." "How 
 strange! Didn't you know anything about it, 
 Louis?" 
 
 "Nothing at all," said the Count de Beaulieu 
 intent on his breakfast and very red in the face. 
 George, resplendent in a cast-off suit, was tem- 
 porarily taking the place of the hotel-waiter whom 
 he had ignominously ejected from the Count's 
 suite, and his manner of serving the ham and 
 eggs was stoically self-possessed and correct. 
 The Count glared at him out of the corners of 
 his eye, mutely admiring. Certainly the talent 
 for impersonating superior people ran in the 
 family. 
 
 "Really, there appears to have been quite a 
 commotion," the Countess Theodora went on. 
 "Just listen 'Mrs. Pagot-Chump, the well-known 
 American millionairess who is at present honour- 
 ing Bunmouth with a long visit ' ' 
 
 "What!" 
 
 The Countess Theodora looked across the table 
 136
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 137 
 
 in grave surprise. The exclamation had come 
 like a pistol-shot. Her husband's face was col- 
 ourless and his eyeglass had dropped with a click 
 into his plate. 
 
 "Is there anything the matter, Louis?" she 
 asked. "Aren't you feeling well?" 
 
 "Well?" He caught George's eye and recov- 
 ered himself, though not very effectually. "Of 
 course perfectly well. I was only shocked 
 surprised, I should say, that a person like Mrs. 
 Pagot-Chump should come to well to a place 
 like this you know " 
 
 "Do you you know her then?" 
 
 "Certainly not that is to say I have heard 
 of her." 
 
 "You seem to be very well acquainted with her 
 tastes." 
 
 "My dear Theo," in tones of mild superiority, 
 "American millionairesses are the same all the 
 world over." 
 
 "Do you generally shout like that when you 
 hear one mentioned?" 
 
 "I do not," with increasing asperity. "If a 
 man takes a mouthful of hot coffee " 
 
 "You are drinking tea, are you not?" 
 
 "The point is immaterial." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 The Countess Theodora returned to "The 
 Bunmouth Daily Chronicle," but she did not prof-
 
 138 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 fer any more extracts from its contents and the 
 subsequent silence was glacial. Count Louis de 
 Beaulieu took a third helping of ham and eggs 
 out of pure panic and the entry of the waiter with 
 that morning's post completed his confusion. 
 The waiter was Bunmouth's pet prodigy and the 
 Count's nightmare. Rumour or local pride had 
 it that he could speak every known tongue, and 
 he certainly flavoured his conversation with a suf- 
 ficiently large quantity of foreign exclamations 
 more or less profane to justify the assertion. 
 The Count was a legitimate prey. 
 
 "Deux lettres pour Monsieur le Comte." 
 
 "Merci bieng." 
 
 "Et une pour Madame la Comtesse." 
 
 Madame la Comtesse said nothing at all, but 
 snatched her letter from the tray and Monsieur 
 le Comte realised with a sinking heart that his 
 manners were not as Continental as they should 
 have been. Evidently in France one does not say 
 "merci bieng" one merely snatches. Chastened 
 and uneasy, he opened the long, legal looking en- 
 velope and hurried over the contents. At the 
 end he draw a quick sigh of relief. Messrs. Bil- 
 lington & Boles begged to inform him that the 
 matter of his inheritance was now satisfactorily 
 settled. The executors had expressed themselves 
 convinced by the proofs of his identity, and the 
 sum of 40,000 had been duly paid into the Bank
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 139 
 
 of England to his credit. Messrs. Billington & 
 Boles added that they hoped to have the honour 
 of attending to the Count de Beaulieu's affairs in 
 the future. 
 
 "40,000!" said the Count under his breath. 
 He glanced involuntarily across the table. For 
 one very beautiful and illusionary moment the true 
 state of affairs was forgotten. He was the Count 
 de Beaulieu with 40,000 in cash, an estate in 
 Norfolk and a lovely wife. Fortune smiled upon 
 him, and he too smiled, indifferent to the extreme 
 dubiousness of his claim to these various posses- 
 sions. 
 
 As though aware that he was looking at her, 
 the Countess lifted her eyes. Her face was 
 flushed, and all the laughter and mockery had 
 disappeared. It seemed to him indeed that the 
 tears were very near the surface, and suddenly he 
 remembered that she too had received a letter. 
 From whom? From her parents? A reconcilia- 
 tion, perhaps? In that case his part was played 
 out. Chivalry would no longer require him to 
 offer his protection he would be perfectly free 
 to bolt with the 40,000 and anything else per- 
 taining to the missing Count that he could lay 
 hands on. Nothing could be more propitious. 
 He was nothing to her and she was nothing to 
 him. It was curious that the fact left him unen-
 
 i 4 o ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 thusiastic. On the contrary, he felt dully miser- 
 able. 
 
 "From France?" he enquired at last with as- 
 sumed indifference. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Oh?" He wished she was not so curt. After 
 all, he had a right to know. He was her hus- 
 band in spite of everything. He intended to as- 
 sert his authority. "Might I enquire from whom 
 your letter is then?" he said. 
 
 "You may." 
 
 "Theodora I expect an answer." 
 
 "Do you?" In spite of her obvious trouble she 
 smiled, baffling, and truculent. "Well, as it hap- 
 pens I have no objection to answering. This let- 
 ter is from a friend a Mr. Cecil Saunders." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "And he is coming down to see me." 
 
 "Oh does it not occur to you that I might 
 object?" 
 
 "No, it does not. The idea, under the cir- 
 cumstances would be highly ridiculous." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 She got up, still smiling, though now with a 
 touch of exasperation. 
 
 "Your repartee is a trifle monotonous, Louis," 
 she said. "You should endeavour to cultivate a 
 greater variety and a little less pomposity. And
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 141 
 
 now for the present au revoir. I am going out 
 in the grounds for some fresh air." 
 
 Louis stifled a third "indeed?" and was left 
 staring angrily at his third and untouched helping 
 of ham and eggs. He wondered whether all 
 French women were so provoking in which case 
 he thanked Heaven that he was a true-born Eng- 
 lishman even though a bad one. And yet and 
 yet ! He rose and pushed his chair viciously un- 
 der the table. One thing was clear in his mind 
 he was not going to beat a retreat before this 
 Mr. Cecil Saunders. He could stick to his guns 
 and his wife even though all Scotland Yard were 
 after him. After all there was no proof as yet. 
 And then he caught sight of George and the whole 
 precariousness of his situation revealed itself in 
 that grinning, unalterably amicable countenance. 
 
 "George!" he said curtly. 
 
 George put down his tray and with it his re- 
 spectful bearing and a good percentage of aspir- 
 ants. 
 
 "Well, Bill, dear!" he returned cheerfully. 
 "Wot's your call, old blighter?" 
 
 "Come here and for pity's sake don't shout 
 like that. Look here things can't go on like 
 this." 
 
 George agreed with a jerk of the bullet head. 
 
 "Now you're a-talkin' sense, my cough-drop," 
 he said. "Wot concerns yours truly the joke's
 
 1 42 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 gettin' too stale. Carryin' round plates and 
 brushin' me own brother's togs is a very pleasant 
 sort of rest cure but a bit wearin'. If there was 
 any 'opes of makin' a good 'awl I wouldn't mind 
 hobligin' you a bit longer, but outside my dear old 
 friend Mrs. Pagot-Chump there ain't a soul in 
 the blessed place wot's got so much as a genuine 
 twinkler and I'm a 'ard workin' man, I am " 
 
 "Well, then, George, I've got a job for you." 
 
 "Lawks, you don't say?" 
 
 "It's true. I want you to steal that that in- 
 fernal necklace." 
 
 "Wot me wedding-gift from 'er 'Ighness, 
 me own sister-in-law? You don't mean it, Bill?" 
 
 "I do I'm in deadly earnest." 
 
 "Bill, me feelin's are that 'urt " 
 
 "I can't help it you must get those pearls 
 back." The Count began to pace restlessly about 
 the room whilst George watched him in grieving 
 sympathy. "You must get them back," the Count 
 went on. "I'm willing to make any sacrifice and 
 run any risk, but those pearls must be given back 
 to their rightful owner." 
 
 "Bill, you've lost a slate " 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know. Something's wrong with 
 me. I'm not the man I was. That blow on the 
 head seems to have spoilt everything. But there 
 the fact is I can't go on nationalising property, 
 as you gracefully express it. I'm using another
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 143 
 
 man's money and and deceiving a trusting 
 woman. That's bad enough for me I'm not 
 going any further. The real Count may be dead 
 and in that case I shall endeavour I feel it my 
 duty to endeavour to lead an honest life. And 
 you've got to help me, George." 
 
 George drew himself up to his full height. 
 
 " 'Ave I sunk this low?" he appealed pathet- 
 ically. 
 
 "Don't trifle I've said that I am in deadly 
 earnest. Get me those pearls and I'll give them 
 back to their owner. I don't know what I shall 
 say to her any lie will do, and she'll be glad 
 enough to swallow anything. After that I'm go- 
 ing to keep straight." 
 
 "Yes, that's all very fine, but wot abaut yours 
 truly?" 
 
 "You?" The Count de Beaulieu stopped his 
 restless wandering and confronted his relative 
 with a grave but softened countenance. "Get me 
 that necklace and I'll square you with 500," he 
 said. "Afterwards well, you're my brother 
 and I'll start you in anything you like. I'll buy 
 you a business and I'll keep you on your legs so 
 long as you keep straight." His voice rang with 
 a new enthusiasm. He saw before him the vista 
 of a new life full of a noble generosity, and hon- 
 est atonement for the murky past. But George
 
 144 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 drew out a handkerchief of doubtful antecedents 
 and mopped his eyes. 
 
 "You're beautiful, Bill," he said in accents of 
 stifled emotion, " too beautiful, we've never 'ad 
 anythink so beautiful in the family before. You'll 
 die young I knows you will, my poor misguided 
 brother." 
 
 "Don't jeer I'm not mad I'm in deadly earn- 
 est." 
 
 George looked up and put his finger vulgarly 
 to his nose. 
 
 "You ain't mad," he said, "and you ain't in 
 deadly earnest. It's worse than all that. When 
 a man with your talents starts bein' honest I 
 knows wot's wrong with 'im 'e's in love, that's 
 wot 'e is and that's wot you are, me amatoor sky- 
 pilot!" 
 
 The Count's eyeglass and his jaw dropped si- 
 multaneously, but no answer occurred to him, and 
 by the time he had begun to digest the full pur- 
 port of the accusation the accuser had crept with 
 professional stealth into the Countess' bed-room.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 MRS. PAGOT-CHUMP, American millionairess, 
 sunned herself on the covered verandah of Bun- 
 mouth Spa Hotel. Not since the day when Mr. 
 Pagot-Chump had made his record corner in 
 wheat had she felt the same glow of worldly suc- 
 cess. It was not a great success no members of 
 the aristocracy were gathered round her but it 
 was at least complete. On either hand the Spa's 
 celebrities, male and female, sipped their tea and 
 listened to her with the respect for millions which 
 is the only form of veneration known to the twen- 
 tieth century. Mrs. Pagot-Chump, elated and 
 affable, and charming, had just completed her 
 fourth description of the previous night's adven- 
 ture. 
 
 "It isn't the value of the pearls I mind," she 
 concluded pathetically. "James could get me a 
 finer set any day, but it's the associations, and I 
 guess associations can't be bought." 
 
 "Indeed not," said her neighbour, a young cu- 
 rate, whose expression eloquently added "How 
 modest of you to say so." 
 
 "The pearls were given me on my wedding- 
 145
 
 146 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 day," Mrs. Pagot-Chump went on. "A friend 
 gave them to me a very old and dear friend 
 and I'd give the world to have them back." She 
 smiled archly, and her guests, who acted as a sort 
 of Greek Chorus, simpered after her. 
 
 "Pearls stand for tears," said an elderly spin- 
 ster, with a coy and significant glance. 
 
 "Somebody's gain is somebody's loss," added 
 the curate gallantly sententious. 
 
 "Which reminds me of a sad case of a dear 
 friend of mine," continued Mrs. Pagot-Chump, 
 who had been carefully leading up to this point. 
 "I take it you have all read in the noospapers 
 about the poor young French nobleman who lost 
 his memory under most distressing circum- 
 stances?" 
 
 "Of course. 'He was found unconscious on a 
 doorstep, wasn't he?" put in the spinster, deter- 
 mined on proving her up-to-dateness. 
 
 "That's the man. Such a romantic affair! He 
 couldn't remember anybody not even the young 
 lady who had run away from home to marry him. 
 I was mighty upset when I heard about it. We 
 were great friends out in the States a nice, cute 
 young fellow and of the very best French family, 
 you know." 
 
 By this time the tea-party, as was expected of 
 them, had put two and two together, with the re- 
 sult that the rejected suitor whose significant pres-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 147 
 
 ent of a pearl necklace had been stolen, was raised 
 promptly into the ranks of the French peerage. 
 
 "Why let me think!" exclaimed the curate 
 eagerly. "Aren't you talking of the Count de 
 Beaulieu?" 
 
 "Sure I am," said Mrs. Pagot-Chump, well 
 content that the title should be out at last. 
 
 "Well, then he's staying in this very hotel. 
 I saw him arrive last night!" 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump flushed with genuine de- 
 light. This opportunity of proving her connec- 
 tion with "the best French families" was worth 
 more than any pearls to her, and the fact that the 
 connection in question had been bought by a large 
 monetary loan out of James Pagot-Chump's 
 pocket did not in the least detract from its value. 
 
 "You don't say!" she exclaimed. "Well, now, 
 if that isn't real quaint! And to think I didn't 
 know! The world's only a pocket handkerchief 
 after all! I wonder what brought him here?" 
 
 "If I'm not much mistaken, the Count de Beau- 
 lieu is coming towards us this very minute," said 
 the curate. 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump looked up, very elate and 
 a little nervous. She was shrewd enough to know 
 that there is a class of aristocrat whose degree of 
 friendship for his democratic friends varies with 
 the fluctuation of his own particular money- 
 market and at the time of their acquaintance the
 
 148 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 Count had been very "low" indeed. In spite of 
 her preparedness, however, she was only just able 
 to suppress a gasp, for the young man who was 
 coming towards her was not the Count de Beau- 
 lieu as she had known him. Her mind, once hav- 
 ing grasped that fact, worked with amazing ra- 
 pidity. Somebody "had been done in the eye" 
 as James would have expressed it in his Anglo- 
 American phraseology. If this was the Count de 
 Beaulieu, then the person who had paid her such 
 marked attention and had borrowed from her 
 husband with such inimitable grace was nothing 
 better than a mountebank and a fraud. In which 
 case she would become a laughing-stock, she would 
 be disgraced and her social prestige held up to 
 ridicule. The possibility was too awful the risk 
 too serious. She rose briskly and murmuring 
 "Excoose me, won't you? Old friend, you 
 know," she tripped to meet the mysterious 
 stranger. Like a good general she had decided 
 quickly and her plan of action once made she 
 meant to stick to it. By hook or by crook she 
 was going to talk to that young man, she was go- 
 ing to hold him in an amicable conversation, she 
 was going to win him over to an appearance of 
 intimacy. It was a big undertaking, but with the 
 eyes of Bunmouth Spa on her, defeat was unbear- 
 able and unthinkable. Trusting to her national 
 fluency and considerable personal charms, she ad-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 149 
 
 vanced to do battle, and to her amazement in- 
 finitely to her relief the young man lifted his 
 hat. 
 
 "Mrs. Pagot-Chump, I believe?" he ventured. 
 He was evidently nervous very much more ner- 
 vous than Mrs. Pagot-Chump was and that fact 
 gave her back her wavering self-confidence. 
 
 "My dear Count!" she exclaimed. "So de- 
 lighted to meet you again!" 
 
 It was a bold stroke, but, as is the way with 
 bold strokes, it succeeded. The Count took the 
 outstretched hand, blushed and stammered 
 
 "I didn't know that I I had the honour," he 
 said when he had regained a certain degree of 
 coherency. "Indeed I didn't know that I knew 
 anybody here." 
 
 "Don't you really remember?" she asked softly 
 and with a touch of smiling reproach. 
 
 The Count righted himself mentally speaking 
 and smiled back. 
 
 "Ton my word, I don't!" he admitted, "but 
 then perhaps you have heard I've lost my mem- 
 ory through an accident, you know. You might 
 forgive me on that score." 
 
 "Of course I will right away. My name is 
 Pagot-Chump Mary Pagot-Chump. We met in 
 Noo York. And I'm glad as can be that we've 
 met again. James and I have never forgotten 
 you at any rate."
 
 150 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "It's very nice of you to say so," murmured the 
 Count. He hesitated, digging in the gravel with 
 the point of his stick. "I can't tell you how 
 pleased and relieved I am," he went on jerkily. 
 "It makes it easier for me. I wanted to speak 
 to you in fact " he stopped again. "In fact 
 I have a favour to ask," he blurted out. 
 
 "Well, suppose you give me your arm," she sug- 
 gested shrewdly. "When we get away from 
 these good folk you can tell me about it." 
 
 He obeyed and she felt that he was trembling. 
 She wondered if this "Count" was also in a "tem- 
 porary financial embarrassment" and how much 
 his friendship was likely to cost the long-suffering 
 James. Under the circumstances she felt it would 
 be cheap at any price and, conscious of eager, 
 watching eyes, her manner grew increasingly gra- 
 cious. 
 
 "Just you tell me what I can do for you, 
 Count," she encouraged. "Anything is a pleas- 
 ure when it's for an old friend." 
 
 "You are most kind," the Count murmured 
 again. "To tell you the truth all I ask of you is 
 to er accept something of er value without 
 explanations in fact without asking questions." 
 
 They had reached a solitary by-path in the 
 hotel grounds, and Mrs. Pagot-Chump stopped 
 short.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 151 
 
 "Do you realise that it's a woman you're talk- 
 ing to, Count?" she asked. 
 
 "Certainly, Mrs. Pagot-Chump." 
 
 "Well, then, doesn't it strike you as a rather 
 tall order?" 
 
 "I know I know!" He looked at her with 
 miserable appeal. "I know, but I can't help my- 
 self. I must just fling myself blindly on your 
 mercy. There there are your pearls!" 
 
 He fairly thrust them on her and when they 
 were safely in her hands he heaved a sigh of 
 relief. "There there I've done it," he said. 
 "You can think what you like. I can't tell you 
 how I came by them I can't and I shan't. You 
 can send for the police if you like you have 
 every right to do so but at any rate I've given 
 them back. Anyhow, sooner or later " He 
 stopped again, his lips firmly compressed, and 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump looked at him with an ex- 
 pression of amused interest on her charming face. 
 The recovery of her jewels did not please her half 
 so much as this good-looking and most unusual 
 young man. 
 
 "I guess you look honest enough, Count," she 
 observed critically. 
 
 "I feel honest," he admitted, though in the tone 
 of one confronted with an enigma. 
 
 "And suppose I strangle my femininity, don't 
 ask questions and tell your somnolent police that
 
 152 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 I've made almost as big a fool of myself as they 
 have?" 
 
 " then count on me as your devoted servant 
 for life!" 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump smiled. Not in vain was 
 she the wife of a "Wheat King." 
 
 "I guess it's a bargain, Count," she said. 
 
 "I guess you're an angel," said the Count with 
 gallant enthusiasm, and kissed the small extended 
 hand. 
 
 And it was at that precise and critical moment 
 that the Countess Theodora turned the corner of 
 the shrubbery. 
 
 The three members of the trio saw each other 
 simultaneously and there was a short electric 
 silence. The Count dropped the small hand as 
 though he had been struck with paralysis, and 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump looked from one blank face 
 to the other with a puzzled good-nature. 
 
 "If this is the Countess, I guess you might in- 
 troduce us to one another, Count," she said. 
 
 The Count made an effort. 
 
 "Theo this is Mrs. Pagot-Chump," he jerked 
 out, "an old friend " 
 
 "I am delighted." She came slowly forward, 
 her small graceful head held very high, her face 
 pale but composed. "It seems your memory must 
 be returning," she went on. "This morning you 
 told me"
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 153 
 
 "Mrs. Pagot-Chump reminded me of our old 
 acquaintanceship," he interrupted despairingly. 
 
 "The Count and I were great friends out in 
 the States," Mrs. Pagot-Chump explained still 
 buoyant and conciliatory. "It's a real treat to 
 have met you, Countess, and if you two would do 
 me the honour to have lunch with me I'd be more 
 than delighted " 
 
 "I thank you you are most kind. Unfortu- 
 nately I must ask my husband to accompany me 
 at once. I have just discovered that my boxes 
 have been broken into and " She stopped 
 short. The Count closed his eyes in the instinc- 
 tive endeavour to shut out the coming catastrophe. 
 She had seen the jewel case in Mrs. Pagot- 
 Chump's hand. Nothing could save him now. 
 And yet for the second time in his short disturbed 
 honeymoon the catastrophe hung fire. From 
 afar off as it seemed to him Mrs. Pagot- 
 Chump's high-pitched voice was enquiring with 
 natural excitement as to the loss and he heard his 
 wife's cold level answer " 
 
 "No, nothing of the least value was taken, 
 thank you. Still, the matter should be investi- 
 gated. Louis, if you could spare me a few min- 
 utes?" 
 
 He opened his eyes and met her steady gaze 
 with a speechless gratitude. She had deliber-
 
 i 5 4 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 ately saved him that was the one thing which 
 stood out clearly in the chaos of his emotions. 
 
 "I will come with you at once," he said quickly. 
 "I am sure, under the circumstances, you will ex- 
 cuse us, Mrs. Pagot-Chump." 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump bowed her head graciously. 
 She scented mischief and there was already a 
 gleam of understanding in her keen eyes. 
 
 "Meet you both again, Count," she said. "And 
 don't forget our bargain!" 
 
 In painful silence the Count accompanied his 
 wife down the path which led back to the hotel. 
 The moment Mrs. Pagot-Chump had dropped out 
 of sight the Count stopped short. His face was 
 flushed but resolute. 
 
 "Theodora," he said, "you were splendid I 
 can't thank you enough " 
 
 "I do not want you to thank me at all," she in- 
 terrupted, "I did it for my own sake. I did not 
 
 want to admit that that I was married to a 
 a " 
 
 " a what?" he demanded. 
 
 "I don't know what to call you." 
 
 " a scoundrel?" he suggested bitterly. 
 
 "If you like to dub yourself yes." 
 
 "All the same I owe you an explanation," he 
 persisted with the determination of despair. "It's 
 extremely hard " 
 
 "So I should imagine." Her lips curled con-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 155 
 
 temptuously. "How long have you known that 
 that woman?" 
 
 "Theodora I don't know her " 
 
 "You said she was an old acquaintance." 
 
 "She said so I didn't." 
 
 She stopped short and looked at him with 
 haughty severity. 
 
 "Did you intend those pearls for me or did 
 you not?" 
 
 He tried to lie, but his imagination failed him. 
 
 "No I did not I" 
 
 "Did you take those pearls from my box to 
 give to her?" 
 
 "George took them for me " 
 
 "So? You have encouraged an honest man on 
 the road to dishonesty? Really, I am filled with 
 admiration!" 
 
 "Theodora" 
 
 She waved his extended hand aside. 
 
 "Thank you you have explained enough. I 
 have quite understood. Your valet made an un- 
 fortunate mistake in supposing that so valuable a 
 gift would have been intended for your wife, and 
 I made the worse mistake of believing him. I 
 apologise for the inconvenience I have caused you. 
 At the same time" and at this point her voice 
 shook "it would have been kinder if you had 
 told me the truth instead of acting as as you 
 have done."
 
 156 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Theo won't you listen to me?" 
 
 "No. If I cared for you, it would be different. 
 As it is, an explanation is unnecessary and stupid." 
 
 She walked on, and he followed in seething 
 silence. Her last remark rankled goaded him 
 to a wild, ridiculous attack. 
 
 "If you don't care, I wonder why you are cry- 
 ing?" he asked, with a thin covering of mild cu- 
 riosity. "Are you perhaps jealous?" 
 
 She turned round on him, crimson with anger, 
 the tears flashing like diamonds in her bright eyes. 
 
 "I am not crying and if I was it would be 
 because because I hate and loathe you !" 
 
 "Oh!" said the Count. He stood and stared 
 after her until the slight, erect figure had disap- 
 peared in the porch of the hotel.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 SUSAN, scullery-maid-in-chief to the Bunmouth 
 Spa Hotel, stood by the scullery window and 
 peeled multitudinous potatoes. At intervals a 
 white-capped head appeared round the door and 
 a masculine voice, softened by the dulcet influence 
 of the French language, enquired patiently if 
 Mademoiselle Suzanne was not yet finished with 
 "ces maudites pommes de terre." Twice Made- 
 moiselle Suzanne, with her eye on the window 
 which looked out on to the stable-yard, replied by 
 a sniff, the third time she waxed indignant. 
 
 "If you mean the taters, why don't you call 
 them by their proper name?" she demanded. 
 "Taters is taters, and they won't be done for an- 
 other half hour. So now you know I" 
 
 Thereupon she began to sing in the peculiarly 
 high-pitched tuneless way for which scullery-maids 
 are noted, and Monsieur Bonnet shook his head 
 ruefully. 
 
 "Thou art not gentille, Mademoiselle Su- 
 zanne," he said. "Thou 'ast not been gentille 
 for many days past." 
 
 157
 
 158 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "What's 'gentille'?" she enquired freezingly. 
 "And why will you say 'thee' ? 'Tain't English ?" 
 
 Monsieur waved his arms with a movement of 
 despair. 
 
 "English is a language without tenderness," he 
 began. "I try to soften her I try to fill her with 
 ze tendresse of ze French but it avails me not. 
 She remains ze language of ze barbares " 
 
 "Barbers, indeed!" Susan interrupted with en- 
 ergy. "I don't see wot you need to be so 
 haughty about. You're only a cook yourself." 
 
 "Helas, Suzanne, you 'ave not understood " 
 
 "Go along with you!" Susan retorted crisply. 
 
 Monsieur Bonnet found no answer to this. He 
 stood with folded arms and knitted brows and 
 eyed her with the gloomy despair of a defeated 
 Napoleon. No one, not even the hotel manager, 
 dared to speak to him, Monsieur Bonnet, world- 
 famous gastronomer, as did this little fair-haired, 
 blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked bundle of impertinence. 
 Why did he bear it? Why did he not send her 
 to the right-about as he had done dozens of other 
 clumsy but willing spirits? Monsieur Bonnet 
 shook his head over himself. Therein lay the 
 curse of the artistic temperament; against tears 
 and entreaties he had a heart of adamant, but fair 
 hair, rosy cheeks and blue eyes could blind him to 
 anything and everything and melt him to a soft- 
 ness unequalled by his own butter. So he sighed
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 159 
 
 and scratched his little black Imperial and sighed 
 again. 
 
 "Ever since that fellow 'as been 'ere thou art 
 not more the same to me," he said pathetically. 
 "It is 'Monsieur Bonnet this' and 'Monsieur Bon- 
 net that' and not once 'ast thou called me 'Fran- 
 gois' as in the old days. Suzanne " 
 
 "My name's 'Susan'," interrupted his tormentor 
 with energy. "I'm English, I am, and I don't 
 hold with these nasty foreign words." 
 
 "Ah!" Monsieur Bonnet brought his clenched 
 fist down on the table with a gust of violence which 
 sent a couple of potatoes rolling under the sink. 
 "Ah, I 'ave understood! It is zat Georges, zat 
 sneak, zat poltroon, zat rogue of a gentleman's 
 gentleman! Shall I tell him I believe not in ze 
 Count de Beaulieu. 'E call 'imself a Frenchman 
 and when Jean speak to 'im 'e answer as no 
 Frenchman ever speaked. And this George, this 
 calf who makes 'is eyes at thee " 
 
 "Please remember that you are speaking of a 
 friend of mine," Susan broke in with dignity. 
 
 "Friend! I say 'e is a rogue a " 
 
 "Now then, who's calling me names?" came 
 through the window. Both combatants started 
 Monsieur Bonnet with fury, Susan with a 
 slightly exaggerated delight. George, very 
 spruce, with oiled hair and neatly waxed mous- 
 tache, was leaning against the window-sill, an ex-
 
 160 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 pression of patronising benevolence on his smooth 
 face. 
 
 "You get along, Cooky," he added with a wave 
 of the hand. "Your omelettes are burning. I 
 can smell 'em from here." 
 
 "Bah !" said Monsieur Bonnet scornfully. 
 Nevertheless the professional instinct was roused. 
 He sniffed the air suspiciously, he hesitated, glar- 
 ing furiously from Susan to the new-comer and 
 then, with a snort of fury, stamped back into the 
 kitchen. Susan's silver giggle pursued him with 
 malicious triumph and George joined in, in a pe- 
 culiar noiseless way which Susan felt was highly 
 superior. 
 
 "You're a nice one !" she gurgled with mock re- 
 proof. "That will make him wild for a week." 
 
 "Serves him right!" George asserted. "Hasn't 
 got the manners of a cheesemonger. 'Pon my 
 word, I can't think how you can stand him, 
 Susan." 
 
 "Oh, I've known worse," said Susan with a half 
 regretful glance at the kitchen. 
 
 "I mean," insinuated George, "you're a long 
 way too good for this sort of job. From the first 
 moment I saw you I felt you was different from 
 the rest. There was something about you that 
 told me that you was meant for a higher des- 
 tiny." 
 
 "Now you're talking," said Susan. "You're
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 161 
 
 only a sort of waiter yourself. Monsieur Bonnet 
 is just as good as your boss any day." 
 
 "If you mean the Count de Beaulieu, you're off 
 the track," George observed mysteriously. "To 
 the world we may seem as master and man but 
 trust me, there is more between us than meets 
 the eye." 
 
 "I saw you brushing his trousers," retorted 
 Susan doubtfully. 
 
 "Circumstances, my dear, circumstances over 
 which the strongest have no control." 
 
 Susan sniffed. 
 
 "Monsieur Bonnet doesn't believe he is a 
 Count," she said. "He says he can't even speak 
 French." 
 
 George lifted a supercilious eyebrow. 
 
 "You don't really suppose the Count de Beau- 
 lieu talks the same French as a common cook, do 
 you?" he asked. 
 
 Susan ruminated. 
 
 "I s'pose not," she admitted doubtfully. 
 
 "Of course not. Monsieur Bonnet doesn't 
 know anything about Counts." 
 
 "What do you know about 'em anyhow?" in a 
 rather ruffled tone. "You aren't such a toff your- 
 self and Monsieur Bonnet doesn't believe you're 
 even honest." 
 
 "Me honest? I should think " George 
 stopped short, coughed, and waved a scented
 
 1 62 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 handkerchief as though to purify a tainted atmos- 
 phere. Then a slow smile such as heralds the 
 birth of a great idea dawned over his face. "Su- 
 san, can you keep a secret?" 
 
 "You try 1" she encouraged non-committally. 
 
 "Look here, if you found a man sitting on a 
 doorstep in a dirty old suit and not so much as a 
 pocket handkerchief to call his own, wouldn't you 
 be surprised if you heard he was a Count?" 
 
 "Oh, only a little !" with sarcasm and an impa- 
 tient jab at a harmless potato. 
 
 "Well, that shows what you know about 
 Counts 1 That's what happened to my friend de 
 Beaulieu. He didn't know who he was himself 
 until his girl who had run away to marry him 
 claimed him. Seems a queer story, doesn't it?" 
 
 At this the luckless potato received such a mu- 
 tilating slash that Susan thought it better to let 
 it roll discreetly after its companions under the 
 sink. Her whole face shaped itself into an "Oh" 
 of awed interest. 
 
 "I calls it romantic," she declared solemnly. 
 
 "Well, I know queerer things than that," 
 George asserted. 
 
 From that moment five brown-coated potatoes 
 lay sorrowful and neglected at the bottom of the 
 pan whilst Susan soared through realms where 
 dukes and lords, not to mention counts, are sup- 
 posed to flourish in delightful superabundance.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 163 
 
 She planted her elbows on the window-sill and 
 gazed up into her companion's face. 
 
 "You go on!" she pleaded. "I won't tell!" 
 
 Thereupon George folded his arms, and his 
 expression grew sombrely mysterious. 
 
 "Aristocrats have to play strange parts in the 
 world's history," he began. "There was once a 
 young man Count de Beautemps he was called 
 who had to take the position of a servant. He 
 was of the noblest French blood and yet he had 
 to brush his master's trousers just as you have 
 seen me do." 
 
 "Why?" queried Susan, not unnaturally. 
 
 "Political reasons," was the dark answer. "In 
 France they cut off heads like you peel a potato." 
 
 "Wot happened to 'im?" Susan persisted. 
 
 "He fell in love," said George solemnly. 
 
 Susan indicated by a jerk of the head that she 
 had guessed that much. 
 
 "Who with?" she demanded. 
 
 "Ah, that's where the romance comes in, as you 
 might say." George's voice deepened. His eyes 
 filled with a tender significance. "She was be- 
 neath him, Susan, but she had a heart of gold. 
 She knew him for what he was when the whole 
 world despised him. She helped him against his 
 enemies and he loved her for it, Susan. As 
 Shakespeare says, 'What is a coronet to a noble 
 heart'?" His hand glided towards hers and held
 
 1 64 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 it in a tender pressure. "Susan, can't you 
 guess ?" 
 
 "Lawks 'tain't true " 
 
 "I swear it by my honour as a gentleman. Take 
 this as a proof of my devotion! One day I will 
 reclaim it and you." 
 
 Susan gazed open-mouthed ^at the crested signet 
 ring which he had thrust into her hand. More 
 than the gift his change of manner from the airy 
 ease of the cockney valet to the grandiloquent ges- 
 ture of romance filled her with a delicious con- 
 fidence. George passed his hand over his eyes. 
 "The last of a once princely fortune," he mur- 
 mured with emotion. 
 
 "Oh, sir !" Susan gasped. 
 
 "I am not 'sir' to you !" he interrupted softly. 
 
 At that moment Monsieur Bonnet, having re- 
 adjusted the matter of the omelettes and having 
 violently scolded his subordinates, made his ap- 
 pearance to discover why the potatoes had not 
 made theirs. Susan's attitude with her head 
 against George's shoulder offered sufficient expla- 
 nation. Monsieur Bonnet shot forward ejacu- 
 lating "ha" in a crescendo of fury, and thrust the 
 chief offender from his perch on the window-sill. 
 
 "Thus my potatoes are they treated!" he 
 shrieked. "Thus are the precious hours wasted! 
 Away with you you you " He found no
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 165 
 
 English epithet to fit the situation, and George 
 gathered himself up slowly from the cobbles. 
 
 "You do not know to whom you speak," he said 
 with dignity. 
 
 "Scelerat rogue vagabond!" Monsieur Bon- 
 net retorted. 
 
 "You shall apologise for this," George proph- 
 esied, dusting the knees of his trousers. 
 
 "Bah!" 
 
 "I say you shall apologise," George persisted, 
 and then with a solemn gesture directed at Susan 
 "Remember!" 
 
 Susan kissed her hand by way of response, and 
 the next minute the contents of the potato tub 
 swept down upon the intruder. Susan screamed, 
 then as George, shaking himself free of the del- 
 uge, retired out of range, burst into a stream of 
 tears. 
 
 "You don't know what you've done!" she 
 sobbed. "He's a gentleman a real count in dis- 
 guise." 
 
 "Bah!" Monsieur Bonnet snapped his fingers 
 after the retreating George. " 'E is a liar in no 
 disguise at all. Foolish misguided woman!" 
 
 "I'm not!" protested Susan, goaded to self- 
 defence. 
 
 Monsieur Bonnet, still hot with victory, gazed 
 upon her with righteous indignation. But then 
 the blue eyes, tear-filled, came into play, and the
 
 166 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 usual melting process in Monsieur Bonnet's heart 
 began. 
 
 "Suzanne!" His voice grew soft and persua- 
 sive, "Suzanne weep not. I am a much tried 
 man if I am a little angry who shall wonder? 
 Voyons, for the hundredth time let there be 
 peace between us wilt thou marry me, ma 
 petite?" 
 
 But Susan, still on aristocratic heights, merely 
 emitted a sniff of inexpressible hauteur. 
 
 "Do you think," she said eyeing him from head 
 to foot, "do you really think I'd marry a cook!" 
 
 And with this Parthian shot she flounced out 
 into the kitchen.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 As George, heated and indignant, made his 
 way up the front steps of the Bunmouth Spa 
 Hotel, a young man with a fair moustache and 
 a general appearance of extreme boredom came 
 down. As a result of George's indignation and 
 the stranger's indifference to all things earthly 
 they collided. 
 
 "Can't you see where you're going?" George 
 enquired with polite concern. 
 
 The stranger brushed off imaginary results of 
 the encounter. 
 
 "My good fellow, I imagine it is your business 
 to get out of my way," he observed. 
 
 "Oh, do you? And who do you think I am?" 
 
 "You have been pointed out to me as the Count 
 de Beaulieu's valet." 
 
 "Oh, indeed. Well, perhaps you aren't quite 
 as bright as you think you are." George made 
 an attempt to pass, but the stranger stretched out 
 two detaining fingers. 
 
 "Do you want to earn half a crown?" he asked. 
 
 George shuddered. 
 
 167
 
 1 68 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Wot a nasty idea!" he said. "I'll think 
 about it." 
 
 "Because if you do, take this letter and give it 
 to the Countess of Beaulieu. Say that I'll wait 
 for her in the garden." 
 
 "Aren't you afraid she'll die of joy?" 
 
 "You are an extremely impertinent fellow. I 
 understand that the Count is giving a reception. 
 Kindly deliver this letter at once." 
 
 "Permit me to lick your boots for you," George 
 implored with mock humility. But the stranger 
 had apparently no use for this offer and, after a 
 moment's consideration, George pocketed the 
 half-crown and the letter, and having performed 
 a deep bow proceeded upstairs. 
 
 He found the Count de Beaulieu's suite evi- 
 dently prepared to receive guests, but the Count 
 and Countess themselves, who stood at either end 
 of the room, watched the waiter's proceedings as 
 though a funeral ceremony was in progress. Since 
 the episode of the pearl-necklace a kind of armed 
 neutrality had been established between them, but 
 the compact, such as it was, was at the moment 
 of George's entry undergoing a serious rupture. 
 The skirmish had been opened by the Count, who 
 had innocently remarked that Dr. Frohlocken's 
 train must be overdue. 
 
 "I cannot think why you have invited him at 
 all," the Countess had retorted.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 169 
 
 "We owe Dr. Frohlocken a great deal." 
 
 "Do we?" with bitter significance. 
 
 "I do, at least." 
 
 "I suppose that is why you have invited this 
 this person this Mrs. Bugot-Chump " 
 
 "Pagot-Chump, Theodora." 
 
 "Her name is nothing to me. I consider it an 
 an insult to have asked her." Tears had been 
 very manifest, and the Count had made a valiant 
 attempt to avert the threatening storm. 
 
 "My dear Theo, I can't help myself. It seems 
 I am under some obligation to her. My loss of 
 memory does not do away with the fact that I 
 have a past " 
 
 "So it seems!" 
 
 "And I expect you to treat my friends as your 
 friends," the Count had finished, goaded by the 
 sneer. 
 
 "If if I were in the least inclined to be in- 
 terested I should suspect that there was more be- 
 tween you than you care to confess " 
 
 "My dear girl " But the unconscious truth 
 of the suggestion cut short the Count's flood of 
 eloquent protest and only George's entry pre- 
 vented the victor from following up the pursuit. 
 
 "If you please," said George, still flushed with 
 indignation, "there's a gentleman in the garden 
 waiting to see your Ladyship, and he sent this 
 letter." George's manner lacked its usual polish,
 
 170 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 but neither Theodora nor Louis were in a mood 
 to notice the fact. Theodora had grown pale, 
 and she tore open the envelope with trembling 
 fingers. 
 
 "It's from Cecil Saunders," she said at last, 
 meeting her husband's eye with defiance. "He's 
 in Bunmouth." 
 
 "Indeed. And pray what does he want?" 
 
 "He wants to see me." 
 
 "Well, I object. We are waiting to receive 
 our friends " 
 
 "I shall bring him here, then." 
 
 Quite suddenly the Count lost his temper. 
 
 "I forbid you, Theodora." 
 
 "I expect you to treat my friends as yours," 
 quoted the Countess mockingly. 
 
 "Theodora if I were inclined to be jealous " 
 
 "Do try to be more original!" said the Count- 
 ess with annoyance. 
 
 The Count hesitated. Then his tone softened. 
 
 "Please Theodora consider my feelings. 
 It's absurd to talk of jealousy, I know, but still 
 you are my wife and and I don't know this 
 Saunders in fact none of our party know him. 
 It will spoil everything. I don't want to seem 
 unreasonable, but I have a feeling that I shall 
 dislike the fellow " 
 
 "Well, I dislike this Mrs. Bagot-Chump " 
 
 "Theo, I have explained the circumstances al-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 171 
 
 most as often as I have told you the unfortunate 
 lady's name. I am under obligations to her " 
 
 "And I am under obligations to my my 
 friend." 
 
 "That is another thing altogether." 
 
 "Anyhow I shall bring him up here." 
 
 "If you do" 
 
 The end of the threat if there was an end 
 was lost. The Countess swept out of the room 
 amidst a frou-frou of silk and chiffon, and the 
 Count, with a gesture of resignation, turned to 
 find George seated in the armchair by the fire- 
 place with his feet upon the fender. 
 
 "What on earth are you doing?" the Count 
 demanded. 
 
 "Accustoming myself to my noo situation," 
 George explained pleasantly. 
 
 "Get up at once. Supposing someone came in 
 and found you " 
 
 " that's what they're going to do, dear bird. 
 Now, don't you get rorty there ain't nothing to 
 excite yourself about." 
 
 "For pity's sake explain." 
 
 George waved his hand towards the door. 
 
 "That's my last job," he said cryptically. 
 
 "I don't see" 
 
 "In plain English, brother, I've guv notice. 
 I'm fed up, I am. I *ave borne with a lot to 
 please you and come up to my fraternal duties,
 
 i 7 2 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 but when it comes to a bloomin' French cook 
 pourin' potato-skins over me well, I strike, and 
 I've struck. You'll 'ave to look for a new valet, 
 dear one." 
 
 "Thank Heaven," said the Count fervently. 
 "You'd better be off at once, hadn't you?" he 
 suggested. 
 
 "Me off? Oh, I ain't in no 'urry. I enjoys a 
 little 'family party' like this." 
 
 "Look here, though, you must clear out before 
 people come." 
 
 "Me ? Not a bit of it. You introduce me 
 as your cousin, Count de Bontemps, who's been 
 disguised as your valet for grave political rea- 
 sons. They'll swallow me like butter." 
 
 "You 1" The unhappy young man folded his 
 arms in an attitude of utter exasperation. "You 
 a Count!!" 
 
 George leered. 
 
 "I'm just as good a count as you are any day," 
 he observed. " 'Ave you forgotten the tender 
 bond of brotherhood?" 
 
 "Why, you can't even behave like a gentleman," 
 burst in the Count, in a falsetto of indignation. 
 
 George got up ; pulled down his waistcoat. It 
 was as though a magician had waved a wand over 
 him. 
 
 "My dear Beaulieu," he said, "in the matter 
 of manners I believe I have nothing to learn from
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 173 
 
 a person who screams like a madman and appears 
 to forget that by the unwritten laws of hospi- 
 tality" 
 
 "For mercy's sake don't jump about from your 
 vulgar cockney to that high-flown stuff," his 
 brother pleaded. "It makes my head whirl." 
 
 "It's all part of the trade," George explained 
 airily. "I can be anything at any minute. Mrs. 
 Jubbers is like that too. You should see her as 
 the Duchess of Kolderado " 
 
 "I don't want to see Mrs. Jubbers as anything." 
 
 "That's a pity. I thought of trotting her 
 down as a mutual aunt. Well, never mind, I 
 daresay one new-found Count is enough for an 
 afternoon. As I was saying, I am a man of 
 many parts. In private life or during compulsory 
 rest-cures I drop 'hs.' At other times I can 
 talk any lingo you like. Would you like a sam- 
 ple of French ?" 
 
 "Good Heavens no!" 
 
 Voices sounded outside. Monsieur de Beau- 
 lieu heard his wife's laugh a little uneasy, he 
 thought and then a detestable masculine bass. 
 George leant forward, his face had become dia- 
 bolically threatening. 
 
 "If you don't give me out as your cousin, I'll 
 give you away," he said in a sepulchral whisper. 
 "I'll show you up I'll tell 'em all you're a 'um- 
 bug, a common cheat wot's gone and swindled a
 
 174 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 poor trusting girl into a marriage under false 
 pretences " 
 
 "For Heaven's sake " 
 
 " I'll tell 'em that you've cheated your bene- 
 factor that you stole his plate the very night he 
 befriended you " 
 
 "George hold your tongue " 
 
 George leered hideously. 
 
 "And I'll talk French to you!" he said, as a 
 culminating blow. 
 
 The door opened. The Countess Theodora 
 led the way, followed by Mrs. Pagot-Chump 
 whose gorgeous afternoon "creation" in mauve 
 crepe de chine was finished off by the fatal pearl 
 necklace. Behind appeared the gloomy face ot 
 Dr. Frohlocken and a tall fair-haired young man 
 whom Monsieur de Beaulieu hated at sight. 
 
 "You see we've all come together," said the 
 Countess Theodora cheerfully. 
 
 "So delightful!" murmured Mrs. Pagot- 
 Chump, and pressed her host's hand with an arch 
 smile. "I guess we don't need any introdoocing, 
 do we Count?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken greeted his recent patient with 
 a depressed friendliness. 
 
 "Didn't want to come," he declared, with sci- 
 entific honesty. "Hate hotel life. But I felt re- 
 sponsible. One never knows how a case like 
 yours may turn out, especially when treated in
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 175 
 
 that criminal fashion. However, glad to see 
 you happy, at any rate." 
 
 The Count was relieved to hear that he looked 
 happy. He felt he must be making progress in 
 the art of deception and wondered if Theodora 
 shared his talent or whether her smile was gen- 
 uine. It was certainly defiant, and her bright 
 eyes and flaming cheeks seemed to challenge him 
 to do his worst. 
 
 "Louis, this is my old friend, Mr. Saunders," 
 she said. "Mr. Saunders this is my husband." 
 The two men bowed, and the Rogue successfully 
 performed the feat of grinding his teeth and smil- 
 ing at the same time. His hatred for this lan- 
 guid individual was increased by the growing con- 
 viction that he played a sinister part in his wife's 
 life. What that part was he had no time to con- 
 sider and his seething indignation was suddenly, 
 brutally cooled. 
 
 "George please order tea to be sent up " 
 the Countess Theodora was saying. 
 
 Involuntarily the husband clutched at the Lucky 
 Pig concealed in his waistcoat pocket. Then he 
 turned. George, modestly awaiting attention, 
 stood on the hearthrug and smiled the kindly ex- 
 asperating smile of the superior being. 
 
 "I think, my dear de Beaulieu," he said with a 
 slight drawl, "I think it is time you offered the
 
 176 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 Countess an explanation for our little masquer- 
 ade." 
 
 There was a blank silence. Monsieur de Beau- 
 lieu felt that the room had become full of eyes 
 and that they were all staring at him. Either his 
 neck had swollen or his collar had shrunk, causing 
 him an unpleasant sensation, of suffocation, and 
 his voice, when it was at last induced to produce 
 itself, sounded high and unnatural. 
 
 "My dear Theo " he jerked out, "I have a 
 little explanation to make in fact a little sur- 
 prise. This er this gentleman whom you 
 have been accustomed to know so well, frankly as 
 George is in reality " 
 
 " Still your humble servant, de Bontemps, 
 and otherwise Georges," put in George with a gay 
 smile and a general bow which however seemed 
 peculiarly addressed to Mrs. Pagot-Chump. 
 
 "Why, that's the fellow I tipped half-an-hour 
 ago !" Mr. Cecil Saunders exclaimed, examining 
 him intently. 
 
 "It is not the first time that a French nobleman 
 has been grateful for a borrowed half-crown," 
 retorted the newly created Count de Bontemps, 
 with a whimsical and continental movement of the 
 shoulders. "All the same I confess to being a 
 base deceiver," he went on lightly. "My dear 
 Countess, against whom I have chiefly sinned, ac- 
 cept my apologies and explanations. Political
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 177 
 
 troubles forced me to fly my own country and dis- 
 guise myself under the name by which you have 
 hitherto known me. My dear cousin, your hus- 
 band, offered me the protection of which I stood 
 in need, and now that the clouds are passed and 
 I may once more assume my rightful position, I 
 hope that we may both receive absolution." 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu suppressed a gasp. It 
 was relatively plausible and beautifully ex- 
 pressed. The vulgar denizen of No. 10, 'Urbert 
 Street had disappeared behind an impenetrable 
 coating of polish and refinement. Nevertheless, 
 his wife's face expressed frozen incredulity, and it 
 was Mrs. Pagot-Chump who took the lead. 
 
 "Well, if this isn't like a scene in the French 
 Revolution," she said cheerily. "I guess I'll turn 
 out a Countess myself if you give me time. But 
 I'm real glad to make your acquaintance, Mon- 
 sieur de Bonton, and if you're in need of another 
 situation just you come along to James Pagot- 
 Chump, U. S. A., and we'll see you get more than 
 half-a-crown." 
 
 "Vive 1'Amerique," said George and kissed the 
 cordially outstretched hand with the gallantry of 
 a 1 7th century courtier. 
 
 "And now come along and give me a cup of tea 
 and the whole romance," went on Mrs. Pagot- 
 Chump pleasantly elated. "I'm thirsting for 
 both."
 
 178 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 Before the eyes of his horrified relative, 
 George, late of No. 10 'Urbert Street, offered his 
 arm and the two led the way into the adjoining 
 room. Mr. Saunders with 'Dr. Frohlocken, both 
 obeying an imperative gesture from their hostess, 
 brought up the rear, and for a moment husband 
 and wife were left alone. 
 
 "You have indeed astonishing friends," the 
 Countess Theodora observed sarcastically. 
 
 "I thought " began her husband with desper- 
 ate self-possession. 
 
 "I know just what you are going to say: 'Live 
 and let live.' But you will admit that I have 
 stranger things to accept from you than you from 
 me." 
 
 "Theo you said once you would trust me." 
 
 Her eyes softened a little and he saw a new 
 expression creep into her face part timid, part 
 appealing and part defiant. 
 
 "Louis how can I trust you after all that has 
 happened?" 
 
 Instinctively he felt that she was offering him a 
 loophole of escape, and he seized it eagerly. 
 
 "I'd do anything " he began. "Anything, 
 Theodora." 
 
 "Will you give me 300?" 
 
 He looked at her in amazement. It was crude 
 brutal, almost vulgar. 
 
 "Why, only the other day it was fifty "
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 179 
 
 "I know, I know." She held out her hands 
 pleadingly. Surely it is a little thing to ask, and 
 I want it so badly." 
 
 "You want it?" She saw the surprise flash up 
 and every trace of colour faded from her cheeks 
 "or or is it for him?" he asked hoarsely. 
 
 Her eyes met his without flinching. 
 
 "It is for him." 
 
 "Is that the nature of your obligation?" 
 
 "Partly." 
 
 He began to pace about the room in a fever 
 of unrest. 
 
 "Theodora won't you trust me? If this man 
 is using any undue influence over you " 
 
 "Oh, no, it isn't that my obligation is one 
 of feeling." 
 
 "You mean you care for him?" 
 
 She bowed her head. He drew himself up 
 with a hard effort. In the next room he heard 
 George relating his recent adventure with the 
 Bunmouth Hotel's chef and Mrs. Pagot-Chump's 
 high-pitched laughter. But for the first time he 
 did not care. Everything had become indifferent 
 worthless to him. 
 
 "I'm sorry," he said at last. "It would have 
 been better if you had told me before. As it is 
 you shall have the money." 
 
 "Louis " He heard the sob in her voice, but 
 he did not see her face. He turned away with
 
 i8o ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 compressed lips, and before she could speak again 
 a waiter entered with the letter tray. 
 
 "A telegram for you, your Lordship." 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu took the envelope and 
 tore it open. There was a moment's silence. 
 Then he laughed a curious mirthless little laugh. 
 
 "Louis what is it have you bad news?" 
 
 "Nothing unexpected." He passed his hand 
 over his forehead. "Theo please ask George 
 I mean Bontemps to speak to me." 
 
 "Yes, Louis," she said with a new meekness. 
 
 He heard the laughing voices in the next room 
 drop to an abrupt silence and the next minute 
 George, flushed and elated, stood in the doorway. 
 
 "Wot's the matter?" he asked boisterously and 
 with painful relapse into his native dialect. "Why 
 don't you come along in, you weeping willow, 
 you? I've just been telling Mrs. Chump about 
 Monsieur Bonnet and we've sent for 'im just for 
 the fun of seein' 'is face when 'e finds who 'e 
 threw his potato at. Why, Bill " 
 
 "Read that!" said the. Rogue. 
 
 George, Count de Bontemps, took the crum- 
 pled piece of pink paper and spreading it out read 
 aloud: 
 
 "Count de Beaulieu and wife travelling to Bun- 
 mouth by the afternoon express. Arrive 5 130. 
 Look out. "Washington Jones."
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 181 
 
 Instinctively both men glanced at the clock. 
 The hands marked 5 145. The Count de Bon- 
 temps whistled softly. 
 
 "There's a Count too many in this game and 
 that's me," he said. "I'm off, brother, dear, and 
 if you take my advice " Then suddenly he 
 smiled a beautiful smile worthy of a better 
 cause. "No, Bill no, we'll face it out we'll 
 face it out, old bird." 
 
 And, slipping his arm through that of his fel- 
 low-conspirator, he dragged him, feebly resisting, 
 into the next room.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 MONSIEUR FRANCOIS BONNET divested him- 
 self of his apron and flung his white cap down on 
 the table, like a knight weary of his armour. 
 
 "I go," he said solemnly. "I go it is my 
 duty, and a Frenchman never yet refused to per- 
 form his duty. Ze manager 'as said to me, 
 'Francois Bonnet apologise! You 'ave thrown 
 potato-skins at a guest, and for ze honour of ze 
 hotel you must apologise like a gentleman.' Eh 
 bien, I go. I will make my amends to this scele- 
 rat, but I will not forget. Ah, no, I'll not for- 
 get!" 
 
 Susan tossed her head. 
 
 "If you had listened to me, it would never have 
 happened," she said condescendingly. "I knew 
 at once he was a gentleman. But perhaps you 
 don't know the sort. You will look silly." 
 
 Monsieur turned a melancholy brown eye upon 
 her. 
 
 "Disloyal one !" he said bitterly. "What is it 
 to thee what I look? Through thy faithlessness 
 am I 'umbled in ze dust. Is that not enough?" 
 
 "Oh, go along!" said Susan cheerfully. 
 182
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 183 
 
 Monsieur Bonnet drew out an embroidered 
 handkerchief and laid it ceremoniously on the 
 table. 
 
 "Little did I think when thou gavest me this 
 first gift that I should return it to thee thus," he 
 said. "But indeed all is over. Go then to thy 
 Count and forget one who loved thee wiz an 
 'onourable 'eart. Farewell." 
 
 "See you later!" said Susan with the haughty 
 aloofness of a Countess in embryo. 
 
 As Monsieur Bonnet, heavy of step and heavier 
 of heart, reached the ground floor he became 
 aware of voices, raised in hot altercation, which 
 came from the entrance hall. Monsieur Bonnet, 
 who had been making for the back staircase, 
 changed his course, and made for the front ones 
 instead. Which proves that Monsieur Bonnet 
 was not wholly free from the weakness of curi- 
 osity. Two new arrivals, barricaded in the midst 
 of an astonishing quantity of foreign looking lug- 
 gage, were engaged in a loud discussion with the 
 perplexed and heated hotel manager. Monsieur 
 perceived that the lady and gentleman were both 
 young and of the type that is briefly classified as 
 "newly married." Both were below the medium 
 height; the gentleman was dark and excitable, 
 with a fiercely waxed little moustache, the lady 
 was fair and fluffy and placid, with a tendency to 
 plumpness. Monsieur Bonnet had noticed these
 
 1 84 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 peculiarities and was on the point of resuming 
 his penitential pilgrimage when the manager, per- 
 ceiving him, signalled to him like a ship in dis- 
 tress. 
 
 "Monsieur Bonnet," he said in an excited un- 
 dertone, "you are a man of tact, and perhaps you 
 can manage your own countrymen better than I 
 can. Go and ask the Count de Beaulieu if he 
 would 'be so kind as to spare me a few minutes. 
 It is a matter of importance. 
 
 "The Count is with guests," said Monsieur 
 Bonnet, his eye on the strange couple, who had 
 relapsed into a heated silence. "Can I not offer 
 him some reason?" 
 
 "Say that well, you'd better tell him the 
 truth. Say that a gentleman is here who says 
 he is the Count de Beaulieu " 
 
 "And that he is a fraud, a humbug," put in 
 the new arrival fiercely, and with a wild and 
 threatening wave of the arms. 
 
 Monsieur Bonnet drew a deep sigh of infinite 
 satisfaction. 
 
 "I go," he said. "I go quicker than ze light- 
 ening and wiz ze greatest joy." 
 
 Thus it was that when Monsieur Bonnet was 
 ushered into the presence of his enemy he came 
 with the air of a conqueror. George, who was 
 seated by the tea-table next to Mrs. Pagot-Chump,
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 185 
 
 received him with a gracious and graceful move- 
 ment of the hand. 
 
 "Ah, vous voila, Monsieur le Chevalier de la 
 Pomme de Terre," he said gaily. 
 
 Monsieur Bonnet returned the recognition with 
 a stare and a chilly bow. 
 
 "I 'ave come to make the expression of my 
 regrets," he said stiffly in English. 
 
 "Pray consider the matter forgotten," George 
 assured him. "Your dinners should soften the 
 heart of your deadliest enemy." 
 
 " and I 'ave come also on ze part of ze Count 
 de Beaulieu" Monsieur Bonnet persisted with dan- 
 gerous calm. "Ze Count and Countess 'ave just 
 arrived and 'e begs to inform Monsieur de Beau- 
 lieu that 'e is a fraud and a 'umbug and zat 'e 
 would be glad of a moment's speak wiz 'im." 
 
 The Count rose slowly to his feet, impelled by 
 George's determined eye. 
 
 "Absurd!" he heard himself say from a long 
 way off. 
 
 "Impertinence !" said George, passing Mrs. 
 Pagot-Chump the sugar. "Must be a fraud. Go 
 and see that he is turned out, Louis. Did you ever 
 hear of such a thing, Mrs. Pagot-Chump?" 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump, with recollections of New 
 York, showed a face of blank indignation. 
 
 "Never!" she said. 
 
 Louis meanwhile looked round the room like
 
 186 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 a man who is taking a last farewell of his sur- 
 roundings. He encountered his wife's wondering 
 gaze and Saunders' supercilious stare. The one 
 filled him with a biting remorse for the wrong 
 he had done, the other with an obstinate desire 
 to go on doing it. He had cheated her but, scoun- 
 drel though he was, he felt that he was nothing 
 like as big a scoundrel as this pale-eyed wastling. 
 It was his duty to protect his wife against herself. 
 He squared his shoulders. 
 
 "If Mrs. Pagot-Chump would excuse me for 
 a moment" he began. 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump bowed. 
 
 "And Mrs. Pagot-Chump will come down and 
 legitimise you," said George jocosely, but with 
 significance. 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump smiled a smile that was not 
 altogether happy. The possibility that this new 
 arrival was the ingratiating foreigner who had 
 beguiled many an unreturned dollar out of James 
 Pagot-Chump's pocket had already presented it- 
 self to her astute mind. But she was a woman of 
 courage. 
 
 "Of course," she said. "I guess I'll go bail 
 for you, Count." 
 
 With this assurance the Rogue followed Mon- 
 sieur Bonnet into the manager's private room. 
 As William Brown, at any rate, he was beginning 
 to believe in himself. The sword of Damocles
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 187 
 
 was about to fall and he felt astonishingly self- 
 possessed, not to say brazen-faced. Nevertheless, 
 the first encounter with the man he was imperson- 
 ating caused him a shock. He had expected to 
 meet his double instead he found himself con- 
 fronted by a small, alert and very angry personage 
 who bore him no resemblance whatever. Theo- 
 dora's conduct, not to mention Mrs. Pagot- 
 Chump's, was growing more and more inexpli- 
 cable. 
 
 There was a moment's sultry silence. The 
 manager stood midway between them, rubbing his 
 hands and endeavouring to pacify the infuriated 
 little man in the heavy travelling coat who, at the 
 Count's entrance, made what in police terms is 
 called an "ugly rush." 
 
 "Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" The manager 
 pleaded soothingly. 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu smiled. 
 
 "I believe you wished to speak to me," he said. 
 "Who is this person?" 
 
 The manager had no opportunity to explain. 
 The "person" turned from red to purple and ut- 
 tered a sound that was like a throttled scream. 
 
 "I demand that the police be sent for," he 
 stuttered. "I demand that this man be arrested. 
 He is a fraud, a humbug. There is but one Count 
 de Beaulieu and I am he. This here is the 
 Countess de Beaulieu " He broke off, choking
 
 1 88 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 with temper, and the late William Brown glanced 
 involuntarily in the direction indicated. For the 
 first time he became aware that a lady was seated 
 by the fireside. She looked up and smiled placidly. 
 The Rogue clenched his fists. This then was the 
 woman for whom Theodora had been so basely 
 deserted. The last spark of remorse died out. 
 
 "You say you are Count de Beaulieu," he said 
 with the severity of innocence. "Have you any 
 proof to offer?" 
 
 "Proof? Proof? I have papers hundreds 
 of papers " the infuriated Frenchman dragged 
 out his pocket, but his impersonator waved the 
 offer on one side. 
 
 "Papers can be forged," he said. "You are 
 aware, perhaps that the Count de Beaulieu in- 
 herits a considerable fortune from his English 
 Grandfather?" 
 
 "Aware? Of course I am aware. It is for 
 that that I have come to this wretched country." 
 
 "Then no doubt your bankers and the executors 
 will legitimise you?" 
 
 The Frenchman snorted. 
 
 "I have arrived yesterday from America," he 
 retorted. "I have had no time " 
 
 William Brown smiled affably. 
 
 "That is a pity," he commented, "because the 
 executors of the late Lord Sudleigh have ac- 
 knowledged me."
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 189 
 
 "Comment!!" 
 
 The manager smiled with a dawning relief. 
 After all, the first week's bill had been paid, and 
 people who pay their bills inspire confidence. 
 
 "I might perhaps telephone to your bankers, 
 Monsieur le Comte?" he suggested apologetically. 
 
 "By all means," William Brown asserted. I 
 
 At this the Frenchman, who had been reeling 
 round the room in a transport of impotent fury, 
 came to a standstill. By a supreme effort he at- 
 tained that state which in French passes for calm. 
 
 "Wait!" he said. "I have thought. There is 
 a friend of mine here a Madame Pagot-Chump. 
 It is for her I have come. I knew her in New 
 York. She will recognise me. Send for her." 
 
 "Mrs. Pagot-Chump's evidence will no doubt 
 be helpful," remarked the manager tentatively. 
 
 "By all means," Brown agreed. 
 
 The manager made for the door. 
 
 "With your permission, gentlemen, I will go 
 myself and explain to Mrs. Pagot-Chump and ask 
 her to spare us a few moments." 
 
 "You will find her in my wife's apartments," 
 Brown added. 
 
 The Count started and William Brown smiled. 
 He had taken out his Lucky Pig and was sur- 
 reptitiously caressing it with his forefinger. The 
 good luck which had made Theodora and Mrs. 
 Pagot-Chump mistake him for this man was ut-
 
 190 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 terly incomprehensible, but he had begun to be- 
 lieve in it. Meanwhile the manager had closed 
 the door softly behind him and the Frenchman 
 advanced threateningly. 
 
 "You are a swindler, sir, and you know it," he 
 said. 
 
 William Brown confronted him. At that mo- 
 ment the thought of Theodora and her betrayal 
 at the hands of this man made him dangerous. 
 
 "I dare say I do," he said slowly and distinctly 
 "but I'd rather be a swindler than a scoundrel." 
 
 "Sir you insinuate ?" 
 
 "I insinuate nothing. I affirm. Do you deny 
 that you wrote to the Countess Theodora de Mel- 
 ville asking her to come to England to marry you 
 in defiance of her parents wishes?" 
 
 "I do not deny it." 
 
 "And you married this lady?" 
 
 "Of course" 
 
 "Then I say you are a scoundrel and I regret 
 nothing that I have done." 
 
 The Frenchman recoiled. His expression 
 changed from rage to alarm. 
 
 "C'est un fou !" he murmured distractedly. "Un 
 fou!" 
 
 But at that moment the door opened and, catch- 
 ing sight of Mrs. Pagot-Chump's gaily adorned 
 person, he advanced with outstretched hands. 
 "Ah, Madame, you are come like an angel to de-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 191 
 
 liver me and my poor wife from a most absurd 
 position " 
 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump waved him severely on one 
 side. 
 
 "I do not know this person," she said. 
 
 "Ah!" said the manager from the rear. 
 William Brown pressed his Lucky Pig in silent 
 gratitude. 
 
 "You do not know me !" gasped the French- 
 man. "Why in New York" 
 
 "I remember that in New York a person 
 this person presented himself to Mr. Pagot- 
 Chump and myself as the Count de Beaulieu," 
 Mrs. Pagot-Chump went on with freezing delib- 
 eration. "I remember that he borrowed $1,000 
 from my husband, but I do not remember that he 
 ever paid them back. We discovered afterwards 
 that he was a common swindler." She inspected 
 the feebly gesticulating Frenchman through her 
 lorgnettes. "Under the circumstances I guess our 
 acquaintance is at an end," she added. 
 
 "Naturally," murmured the manager. "I am 
 deeply grateful -to you, Madam, for clearing up 
 this difficulty." He rang the bell. "John, see 
 that this this gentleman's boxes are put back 
 and bring the omnibus round to the door " 
 
 "I protest I remonstrate I shall send for 
 the police " 
 
 "You can be thankful that I have not sent for
 
 i 9 2 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 the police," the manager retorted sharply. "I 
 suppose, Monsieur le Comte, you do not wish to 
 prosecute?" 
 
 "Oh, dear no," Wiliam Brown assured him. 
 "It really isn't worth while." He offered Mrs. 
 Pagot-Chump his arm. "I think after this little 
 intermezzo we can rejoin our friends," he said 
 gaily. 
 
 Ten minutes later the Hotel omnibus contain- 
 ing the still furiously tirading Frenchman and a 
 French lady who had by this time relapsed into a 
 placid shower of tears, rolled out of the Hotel 
 grounds. From the scullery window Susan 
 watched the departure in triumph. 
 
 "You see I told you so!" she said to Mon- 
 sieur Bonnet who scowled in the background. 
 
 "The end is not yet," returned Monsieur Bon- 
 net, gloomily prophetic. "Misguided woman!" 
 
 And upstairs Monsieur de Beaulieu listened to 
 the dying rumble of the wheels with the relief of 
 a man who has successfully dodged the sword of 
 Damocles for the fourth time.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 DR. FROHLOCKEN sat at breakfast and dis- 
 coursed on the subject of crimes. It was a sub- 
 ject which invariably put him in a good temper, 
 and the close, slightly strained attention of his 
 audience encouraged him to explain his theories 
 at some length. 
 
 "There are no such people as criminals," he 
 declared, adding paradoxically, "and none of us 
 can claim to be anything better. A so-called crim- 
 inal is merely a person whose buried instincts have 
 got out of control. We are all potential mur- 
 derers and thieves; even you, my dear lady, may 
 at heart be something very different to what you 
 seem, and as to you, No. 7, who knows what that 
 memory of yours is hiding so carefully." 
 
 He chuckled with unusual levity and went on 
 quite unaware of the chill silence which had wel- 
 comed his mild pleasantry. 
 
 "Hence so-called crimes enter into my domain; 
 criminals, as you call them, interest me. I collect 
 them. I confess that I have sympathy with them, 
 which does not, however, prevent my recognising 
 the necessity for limiting their activities. There 
 
 193
 
 i 9 4 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 was one fellow in particular whom I genuinely ad- 
 mire a notorious person who has made our idi- 
 otic police appear more idiotic than usual 
 William Brown he was christened, but he had 
 several aliases Slippery Pill, I think, among 
 others " 
 
 "Slippery Bill," Monsieur de Beaulieu cor- 
 rected hastily. 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken appeared delighted. 
 
 "Ah, then you remember him?" 
 
 "Remember? Certainly not. I mean , I've 
 heard through the papers of course " 
 
 "Well, he's worth remembering," the Doctor 
 resumed appreciatively. "A wonderful imper- 
 sonator. Dukes, clergymen, detectives, it was all 
 the same to him apparently. And the police have 
 never so much as laid hands on him. However, 
 what can you expect? A man of genius like that 
 pitted against our friend Inspector Smythe? The 
 conclusion is inevitable. At the same time I think 
 I may say I fear that the object of my admira- 
 tion has met his match. I have a suspicion that 
 his career is drawing to a close." 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu leant forward. 
 
 "Do you?" he said scarcely above a whisper. 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken nodded gravely. 
 
 "Sooner or later they all make the same mis- 
 take. They play the same part too often. You 
 remember the gentleman who had a fatal boat-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 ing accident with three heavily insured wives in 
 succession ? Now that was overdoing a good idea. 
 Two might have passed, but three was unreason- 
 able unlikely. You see, they get intoxicated 
 with success. They feel their luck can't fail and 
 so they blunder as I fancy Mr. William Brown 
 has done " 
 
 He glanced round, flattered by the intense in- 
 terest which he had evidently aroused. Monsieur 
 de Beaulieu seemed even unnecessarily moved. 
 His cousin's attitude, though attentive, was more 
 impersonal. 
 
 "You surprise me, Doctor," he remarked rather 
 coldly. "I have not heard of any arrest " 
 
 "Not yet, sir. Nevertheless you will do so. 
 Now, I have never seen the man, but I have no 
 doubt that I shall be the means of cutting short 
 a very interesting career " 
 
 Monsieur de Beaulieu, taken unawares, gripped 
 the edge of the table. 
 
 "You !" he breathed. 
 
 "I think so. It was the similarity of the vari- 
 ous cases that struck me. You see, I have been 
 collecting them and their method has always been 
 identical, the impersonation of someone who is 
 well out of the way or whom nobody is likely to 
 know. The moment the pair were driving out 
 of the grounds the suspicion flashed across my 
 mind. Of course I could not be certain, never-
 
 196 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 theless I wired the police in London, who will 
 undoubtedly take steps " 
 
 "You mean the Count the so-called Count 
 has been arrested?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken assented. 
 
 "I am expecting news any moment" he said in 
 a tone of mild satisfaction. "The scientific mind, 
 my dear No. 7, works slow, but it works ex- 
 ceeding sure." 
 
 The Count de Beaulieu glanced sideways at 
 his companion in nobility and received a gentle 
 pressure on the foot by way of response. No fur- 
 ther conversation on the subject was possible, how- 
 ever, for at that moment the bilingual waiter, 
 Jean, made his appearance with the morning's 
 post. 
 
 "Une lettre pour Monsieur le Comte une let- 
 ter pour Madame la Comtesse." 
 
 Jean's French invariably caused the Count a 
 twinge of alarm. This morning it reduced him to 
 a state bordering on panic and the letter, when he 
 saw the envelope, completed the devastation of 
 his nervous system. It bore the printed address 
 of his bankers. He opened it and the first lines 
 told him that the blow had fallen. In polite, but 
 no longer cordial terms, Messrs. Thomas and 
 Blithe begged to inform the Count de Beaulieu 
 that they had received a letter purporting to come 
 from the genuine bearer of the title who was re-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 197 
 
 turning from America. Pending enquiries, 
 Messrs. Thomas and Blithe felt it necessary to 
 close the Count de Beaulieu's account. They ex- 
 pressed regrets, but their instructions from the 
 executors of the late Lord Sudleigh's will left 
 them no alternative. The recipient of this intel- 
 ligence felt the blood slowly recede from his face. 
 He looked up, fearing that the change might 
 have been noticed, and saw that his wife was 
 white to the lips. 
 
 "Are you about to faint, both of you?" Dr. 
 Frohlocken enquired with cold professional in- 
 terest. 
 
 The Count, once again admonished under the 
 table, recovered himself. In an instant he had 
 reached his wife's side and had placed his arm 
 protectingly about her. 
 
 "Theodora " he said, "what is the matter? 
 Have you had bad news?" 
 
 For a full minute she did not answer. Her fair 
 head rested against his arm and, to his amaze- 
 ment, he felt that she was clinging to him like a 
 frightened child. 
 
 "Theodora !" he coaxed, with a long suppressed 
 tenderness. 
 
 Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. 
 A wave of wondering surprise seemed to swamp 
 for a moment the underlying fear. 
 
 "It's from my my father," she stammered.
 
 '198 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "He has forgiven us he is coming over to- 
 morrow." But she did not offer him the letter 
 nor did he ask to see it. Knowing that it was 
 written in the French language he had not the 
 slightest desire to reveal his astonishing ignorance 
 of what was supposed to be his own tongue, and 
 he contented himself with a non-committal cough. 
 Dr. Frohlocken gazed from one to the other with 
 alert attention. 
 
 "Your reaction to good news, my dear lady," 
 he remarked, "is quite unusual and most inter- 
 esting. One might almost suppose, judging super- 
 ficially" 
 
 The Countess rose unsteadily to her feet. She 
 still held her letter tight clenched in her hand, 
 and her eyes sought her husband's with the same 
 look of mute appeal. 
 
 "I think I shall rest a little in the next room," 
 she said faintly. "The shock you know. Dr. 
 Frohlocken your arm !" 
 
 That gentleman responded with clumsy alacrity, 
 and a moment later the Count and George were 
 alone. The Count continued to stare at the door 
 through which his wife had passed, as though he 
 had seen a vision, and George, who was eminently 
 practical, coughed. 
 
 "Wot's up?" he enquired briefly, and with a 
 distressing return to his native intonation.
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 199 
 
 "Everything's up U.P.," the Count answered 
 with a short unhappy sight. "Read that!" 
 
 He pushed the bankers' letter across the table 
 and George, having glanced over it, nodded. 
 
 "Once the real josser had turned up you couldn't 
 expect things to go on as they are," he said. "It's 
 a case of the night express and a visit to the Con- 
 tinong, eh, old bird?" 
 
 The "old bird" glanced despairingly about the 
 room. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so. It's all over this time and 
 it can't be helped." 
 
 "Wot about your missus? Going to take 'er 
 with you?" 
 
 "No." The Count made a movement of des- 
 pairing resignation. "I shall write to her. I 
 shall tell her the whole truth. Her people will 
 look after her now and and I dare say the law 
 will set her free. I'm sure I hope so." 
 
 "Wot about this friend of 'ers this 'ere Saun- 
 ders?" George enquired darkly. 
 
 His brother squared his shoulders like a man 
 preparing to meet the attack of a whole army. 
 
 "I suppose she'll marry him in the end," he 
 jerked out. "I'd like to kill him first though." 
 
 "Why don't you, old bird?" 
 
 "Me? Good heavens, do you take me for a 
 murderer?" 
 
 George gave an unpleasant chuckle.
 
 200 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Well, I don't know. You downed that fellow 
 round by Blake's pretty neatly. I don't know 
 whether 'e recovered but " 
 
 "George, for pity's sake don't talk about things 
 of that sort! You know I can't remember them 
 and they are simply unbearable. Anyhow, this 
 is different. I can't harm a man she's fond of 
 even though I think he's a scoundrel." 
 
 George shook his head. 
 
 "You're off colour, Bill dear," he lamented. 
 "You wouldn't 'ave turned a hair over a little job 
 like that a year ago. However, it's love's young 
 dream that's upset you, I suppose. But look 'ere, 
 to get back to business how much filthy lucre 
 'ave you got for our little trip?" 
 
 The Count started, overwhelmed by this new 
 idea. 
 
 "Money? Why, I don't believe I've got 20 
 in the world. I gave my wife 300 last night." 
 
 "Wives is expensive luxuries," George com- 
 mented gloomily. "Don't you saddle yourself with 
 another, Bill dear." 
 
 "I never shall," Monsieur de Beaulieu returned 
 with a tragic glance at the closed door, "even if 
 I had the chance," he added, as a melancholy 
 after-thought. 
 
 "And you won't have much chance unless we 
 can raise the wind some'ow," George observed. 
 He was silent a moment, contemplating his brother
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 201 
 
 with a half-amused cunning. Then he slapped 
 his knee. "It's a lifer if you get caught, Bill," 
 he said. "You don't know wot a little lot the 
 beaks 'ave got against you thirty burglaries, 
 fourteen fraudulent impersonations, twenty for- 
 geries, three cases of manslaughter, not to men- 
 tion bigamy. Why, an ordinary 'uman life won't 
 be 'alf long enough! You wouldn't like that, 
 would you?" 
 
 "I'm sure I shan't care much," was the bitter 
 answer. 
 
 "Well, wot about the poor Countess wot you've 
 deluded so? D'yer think it'll be a nice thing for 
 'er wot's come of a noble French family to see 
 'er 'usband in the dock, eh?" 
 
 George was sinking deeper and deeper in the 
 sloughs of cockneyism, and the unhappy Count 
 winced. 
 
 "No, no, I must spare her that," he agreed 
 hoarsely. "Besides I couldn't face her. She 
 trusted me, you know, and upon my word I'd have 
 made her happier than either that blackguard 
 Count or that Saunders fellow could have done. 
 But the luck's been against me and I must let 
 her go. It would be horrible to see her when she 
 hears that I'm only a common rogue." 
 
 " 'Old on there ! Don't you go calling names. 
 Hours is a honourable profession if you looks on 
 it in the right light. Besides, you're getting washy,
 
 202 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 brother, and you can keep all that for the beak 
 when you pleads 'extenuating circumstances'. 
 Look 'ere, I've got an idea, old bird." He picked 
 up a copy of the "Bunmouth Daily Chronicle" and 
 pointed out the social paragraph entitled "Latest 
 Arrivals." "See that?" 
 
 "See what?" 
 
 "If you can't read at your time of life you 
 ought to be ashamed. Listen to this? Mr. John 
 Lancaster, the well-known Australian financier who 
 is travelling over Europe in connection with his 
 recent mysterious loss, has arrived for a few days' 
 rest in Bunmouth! Now, how does that strike 
 you, brother?" 
 
 The Count put his hand involuntarily to the 
 back of his head as though perplexed by some 
 vague memory. 
 
 "The name sounds familiar," he said hesitat- 
 ingly. "I seem to have heard it somewhere." 
 
 "Of course you have, you Chatham & Dover 
 express, you. Why he's known everywhere and 
 fairly oozes with chink. And I tell you wot, sweet 
 innocent, we leave by the night train and Mr. John 
 Lancaster's cash goes with us." 
 
 The Count recoiled. 
 
 "You can't you won't do it!" he stammered. 
 
 "Can't I? I've got a little friend below stairs 
 who'll make it as easy as going to sleep. Just 
 you keep an eye on yours truly and I'll show you
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 203 
 
 the neatest bit of safe-breaking you've ever seen." 
 
 The Count drew himself up to his full height. 
 
 "George," he said sternly, "you are my brother 
 and I should hate to have to do it, but if you 
 persist in this nefarious plan I shall feel it my 
 duty to warn the manager." 
 
 "You!" George gave vent to a snort of con- 
 tempt. "Why, you 'ave done that sort of thing 
 dozens of times yourself, you old white-washed 
 sepulchre! And if you makes a fuss and tries to 
 queer my crib " he drew nearer and his voice 
 sank to a snarl "I'll send for the manager my- 
 self and then we'll see who looks funny." 
 
 The Count sank down annihilated into the 
 nearest chair. 
 
 "I apologise," he murmured. " Ton my word, 
 it seems I must have had another attack of hon- 
 esty." 
 
 "It'll be over in a minute," George reassured 
 him. "Try a drop of brandy, dear boy." 
 
 But at that moment Dr. Frohlocken's dark 
 head appeared between the curtains of the door. 
 
 "The Countess is feeling better now," he said 
 mildly. "She would be glad to see you, Count."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 MONSIEUR BONNET sat by the kitchen table 
 with his head between his hands and stared gloom- 
 ily at a rough copy of the dinner menu. To wel- 
 come the new and celebrated arrival he had been 
 told to put his best foot forward, which command 
 Monsieur Bonnet had construed into a prodigious 
 culinary effort. On another occasion the effort 
 would have given him pleasure, but to-day his 
 heart was heavy and he had every reason to fear 
 that his hand would be heavier still. The reason 
 was not far to seek. Susan was faithless. From 
 where he sat he could hear her crooning to herself 
 over the afternoon's washing up and since he had 
 told her that his heart was broken her singing 
 was nothing short of callous. He knew what it 
 all meant. With visions of becoming the Countess 
 de Bontemps Susan's previous ambition of one 
 day assuming the name of Bonnet and the sway 
 over a nice little hotel had dropped out of sight. 
 As a direct consequence Monsieur Bonnet found 
 himself unable to concentrate even on his favourite 
 subject of entrees and when the singing suddenly 
 
 204
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 205; 
 
 ceased he rose up, smote himself on the breast, 
 and determined on a last attack. 
 
 "The Old Guard dies but never surrenders!" 
 he declared defiantly and quite indifferent to the 
 fact that there was no one to appreciate this stal- 
 wart sentiment, unless the blinking of the pots 
 and pans could be accepted as signs of intelli- 
 gent understanding. As Monsieur Bonnet ap- 
 proached the scullery door he fancied he heard 
 the sound of voices and, aroused by a sudden, 
 hideous suspicion, he stopped short. Through the 
 chink of the door he perceived that his worst fears 
 were justified. Susan was perched on the inside 
 window ledge, George, Count de Bontemps on 
 the outside, and the proximity of their heads 
 brought a torrent of remarkably expressive French 
 epithets to Monsieur Bonnet's lips. Fortunately 
 they were smothered. Paralysed with indigna- 
 tion, Monsieur Bonnet heard a rapid exchange of 
 whispers of which George had the lion's share. 
 
 "You don't mean it?" Susan was exclaiming 
 softly. "You're having me, aren't you?" 
 
 "Having you? Ah, Susan, to have you, to call 
 you mine that alone is indeed my ambition." 
 George's voice, though subdued, rang with the 
 tenderest enthusiasm. "Now that my position is 
 acknowledged here you trust me, do you not, my 
 sweet English rosebud?" 
 
 *'Oh, I trust you all right," said Susan com-
 
 206 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 placently. "I only wants to know wot you're 
 after." 
 
 George passed his hand caressingly over her 
 fair hair, whereupon the concealed Monsieur Bon- 
 net made a gesture suggesting homicidal tend- 
 encies. 
 
 "I want you to marry me, Susan," George said. 
 "Is that not clear to you, my fair English lily? 
 But before I marry you I must have finally over- 
 come the machinations of my enemies." 
 
 "Wot's machinations?" inquired Susan intelli- 
 gently. "Anything to do with aeroplanes?" 
 
 "Nothing, bien aimee. I merely meant that my 
 enemies who have stolen my rightful heritage 
 must be routed finally before I dare ask you to 
 share my life with me." 
 
 "Who's your enemies?" 
 
 George's voice dropped. Although Monsieur 
 Bonnet glued his ear to the draughty aperture the 
 rest of the conversation only came to him in mad- 
 deningly disconnected scraps. 
 
 " you don't say " 
 
 " millionaire stolen papers my father's 
 heritage " 
 
 "I don't see" 
 
 "You must help me to-night the key " 
 
 "Ain't it wrong ?" 
 
 "Wrong to help right the wrong Susan, my 
 English flower "
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 207 
 
 The rest was smothered in a tender embrace. 
 But Monsieur Bonnet had heard enough. He 
 withdrew on tiptoe, removed his cap and apron, 
 took his best coat out of the cupboard and pro- 
 ceeded upstairs with the air of sinister purpose 
 worthy of a Machiavelli. Monsieur Bonnet was 
 in point of fact a cook only by accident. Had the 
 times or his country demanded it of him he would 
 have made an equally famous diplomatist or gen- 
 eral. And it was in these capacities that he way- 
 laid the unsuspecting Dr. Frohlocken on the hotel 
 terrace. 
 
 "Monsieur, a word wiz you!" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken, immersed in a new theory of 
 the subconscious, stopped resentfully. 
 
 "What is it? Who are you? What did you 
 say you wanted?" 
 
 Monsieur Bonnet glanced cautiously round. No 
 one was in sight except a small, eccentric looking 
 visitor who sat in the shade, apparently lost in 
 the contemplation of the heavens. Monsieur 
 Bonnet laid a mysterious finger to his lips. 
 
 "I would ask you a question. You are a doc- 
 tor a famous doctor?" 
 
 "I believe so," returned Dr. Frohlocken more 
 pleasantly. 
 
 "You are a man of honour?" 
 
 "As far as I know "
 
 ao8 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Then are you not aware zat you protect a 
 scoundrel a robber un scelerat?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken contemplated his unknown com- 
 panion in blank, rather offended surprise. 
 
 "I certainly am not aware of any such thing,'* 
 he declared energetically. "I have had charge of 
 certain so-called lunatics and some of them may 
 have appeared to be, and were undoubtedly scoun- 
 drels, but " 
 
 "Wait!" Monsieur Bonnet held up a com- 
 manding hand. "You are a man of honour I 
 appeal to you. Ze 'appiness of one dear to me 
 depends on you. Answer me, Monsieur. Who is 
 this Count de Bontemps?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken, from being offended, became 
 vaguely uneasy. 
 
 "The Count de Bontemps the Count de Bon- 
 temps is a friend a cousin of of the Count de 
 Beaulieu." 
 
 "And 'ow do you know zat?" 
 
 "Good heavens, man " the doctor made a ges- 
 ture of increasing irritability "he the Count 
 de Beaulieu said so." 
 
 "And who is this Count de Beaulieu?" 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken shrugged his shoulders. "As 
 far as I am concerned he is No. 7 ; speaking with 
 exactitude that is all I know of him. You might 
 as well ask me who I am." 
 
 "I ask you 'ow you know?"
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 209 
 
 "How I know who I am?" 
 
 "I ask you 'ow you know 'e is 'e?" 
 
 Both parties were growing more heated. Dr. 
 Frohlocken endeavoured with very little success 
 to counterfeit an expression of judicial calm. 
 
 "Before I answer your questions I would be 
 glad to know who you are," he said, "and why you 
 ask them." 
 
 "I ask them because not five minutes ago I did 
 'ear ze so called Comte de Bontemps make ze 
 plans wiz my scullery-maid to rob Monsieur Lan- 
 caster who arrive only this day. My scullery- 
 maid elle ne salt rien she is innocent she is 
 deceived 'ypnotised by ze scoundrel, this 
 rogue " 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken waved his arms as though he 
 were trying to swim through the torrent of words. 
 
 "It's intolerable idiotic. Why don't they 
 teach people to say what they mean? I don't 
 understand a thing you're talking about. It's this 
 damned unscientific thinking " 
 
 "Excoose me, gentlemen!" Both combatants 
 were arrested by the drawling accents. Unknown 
 to them the stranger on the terrace had ceased con- 
 templating the heavens and now stood negligently 
 leaning against the balcony, a cigar stuck in the 
 corner of his mouth, a peculiar smile on his wiz- 
 ened little face. " 'Scoose me," he repeated. 
 "Overhearing other people's talk is all part of my
 
 2IO 
 
 business, and I overheard yours. My name's 
 Washington Jones. Here's my card. If you don't 
 believe it ask Mr. Lancaster. I'm his charge 
 d'affaires, as you might say." 
 
 "I really don't see " Dr. Frohlocken began 
 
 " what business I've got in this galere?" Mr. 
 Washington Jones interrupted. "It's just this 
 I know what you're talking about and you don't. 
 Monsieur Bonnet this gentlemen here has got 
 his nose somewhere near the scent, but you've 
 made altogether an astonishing fool of yourself, 
 Dr. Frohlocken." 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken drew himself up with dignity. 
 
 "I expect proof of that statement, sir." 
 
 "Waal, I guess that's what I'm going to give 
 you. You think this young man of yours is the 
 Count de Beaulieu, don't you?" 
 
 "I do not. I never said so. I always pro- 
 tested " 
 
 "Well, he isn't!" 
 
 "Bah!" said Monsieur Bonnet, and snapped his 
 fingers triumphantly. Dr. Frohlocken ran his 
 fingers wildly through his hair. 
 
 "Is this man mad?" he demanded. 
 
 "Read that!" said Mr. Washington Jones 
 placidly. 
 
 With impatient fingers the Doctor took the 
 offered newspaper cutting and hurried over the
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 211 
 
 first few lines. And very slowly a light of triumph 
 spread over his sallow countenance. 
 
 "You mean that's him ?" he said. 
 
 "That's him," said Mr., Washington Jones, 
 with a corresponding lack of grammar. 
 
 "Bah!" said Monsieur Bonnet to no one in 
 particular, but with the satisfaction of victory.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 NINE o'clock struck. The Count and Countess 
 sat on either side of the fire-place and simul- 
 taneously both glanced at the clock and then at 
 each other; simultaneously their eyes returned to 
 their books. After that ten minutes passed before 
 either moved. Their respective novels must have 
 provided ponderous reading, for the pages were 
 left unturned, and when the Count ventured to 
 look up again he found his wife was watching him 
 surreptitiously from under cover of her eyeslashes. 
 
 "You are looking tired," she observed hastily, 
 as though offering an explanation. "You are 
 pale." 
 
 "I have a headache," he admitted. "It's the 
 weather. You don't look very well either. Hadn't 
 you better go to bed?" 
 
 "Oh no, thank you. But don't wait up for me." 
 
 Further silence. At intervals stolen glances at 
 the clock. At last the Countess Theodora rose. 
 Her face indeed justified her husband's statement 
 that she was not looking well. It was deadly white 
 and the hands that played nervously with the long 
 gold chain were obviously trembling. 
 
 212
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 213 
 
 "I think " she began with a little gulp "I 
 think I shall go to bed, Louis, I am feeling upset. 
 It is the heat or the cold or something. Good 
 night." 
 
 He rose and approached her anxiously. 
 
 "Theodora can I get you anything shall I 
 send for the doctor?" 
 
 "Oh, no, no." She held out her hands as 
 though to ward him off and, instead, yielded them 
 with a sudden impetuousness into his clasp. "I 
 have been very horrid to you and you are very, 
 very kind to me, Louis. But you must not bother 
 about me never, never!" 
 
 "Never?" he said with a whimsical sadness. 
 
 "No, never." She hesitated, toying with a kind 
 of desperate playfulness with the buttons on his 
 coat. "Really, I'm not worth bothering about, 
 Louis." 
 
 "Isn't that for me to decide?" 
 
 "No, no, I know better than you. If if I had 
 known you were so so good and chivalrous and 
 generous I wouldn't have done it I mean I 
 wouldn't have consented to marrying you. It was 
 wrong " 
 
 "I'd do it all over again, " he broke in im- 
 petuously. 
 
 "Would you?" 
 
 He flushed. 
 
 "No, I wouldn't"
 
 214 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "Ah, you see!" 
 
 His lips parted with his one and only reason 
 then closed again. She laughed brokenly. 
 
 "Do not try to soften it. I have understood. 
 How could it be otherwise. You have done what 
 you felt was your duty and I have made you suf- 
 fer." She drew back her head and for a moment 
 looked him full and straight in the eyes. "I am 
 sorry for everything I have done to hurt you," 
 she said solemnly. "I want you to believe that 
 that I couldn't help myself. Had things been dif- 
 ferent" 
 
 "Ah, had things been different!" he interrupted 
 sighing. 
 
 "Who knows then?" She shrugged her 
 shoulders recklessly. "Why do we stand here 
 talking of the might-have-beens? It is so foolish 
 so useless and it is late. Bon soir, Monsieur, 
 mon mari!" 
 
 "Theodora!" 
 
 She looked back at him from between the 
 parted curtains. 
 
 "Bon soir, Monsieur, mon mari!" she repeated 
 softly as though the phrase pleased her and the 
 next minute she was gone. 
 
 The Count made a movement to follow her, 
 then stood irresolutely staring at the spot where 
 she had vanished until with alarming abruptness 
 the clock struck the half hour. Then he started
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 215 
 
 like a man awakening from a dream and, crossing 
 to his writing desk, took pen and paper and began 
 to write. 
 
 "My wife," he wrote clearly, "though my 
 knowledge of the French language is limited I be- 
 lieve you have just called me husband for the 
 first time as though you meant it. I call you 
 'Hfe' for the last time, though I think you will 
 remain that to me always in spite of everything. 
 Still it is a title from which you have every right 
 to free yourself. I am not the Count de Beaulieu 
 and I do not know how you ever came to suppose 
 I was. From my point of view I don't know who 
 I am but the person whom I was forced to intro- 
 duce to you as the Count de Bontemps declares 
 that I am his brother. As he is a scoundrel, I 
 presume I am a scoundrel also I have certainly 
 acted as one. A Lucky Pig, which is the one 
 thing I brought with me out of my mysterious and 
 unknown past, points to my being the notorious 
 William Brown, alias Slippery Bill. George con- 
 firms this so now you know what manner of man 
 you have married. Have I any excuse to offer? 
 Well, I think I can plead that I was driven into 
 this false position. When I recovered conscious- 
 ness after that accident or whatever it was I 
 couldn't remember anything about myself. In- 
 spector Smythe put two and two together, how-
 
 2i6 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 ever, and apparently made five, but that wasn't 
 altogether my fault, was it? I did not remember 
 any of my past crimes, and for all I knew he was 
 right indeed if he had said I was the Emperor 
 of China I should have believed him. After- 
 wards, of course thanks to that unlucky Pig I 
 found out who I really was, but then it was too 
 late. And now the game is up. The real Count 
 and he was a worse scoundrel than I was for 
 deserting you for that fair-haired doll has turned 
 up, and it's only a question of hours before he 
 proves his identity. In any case I should have to 
 own up to you. I couldn't stand it any longer. Of 
 course it was natural that you shouldn't care for 
 me and I don't blame you. I deceived you and 
 your feminine intuition found me out. You grew 
 to care for someone else and I couldn't bear it. 
 I couldn't bear to see you unhappy or to see 
 you caring for another man. This brings me up 
 to the last point in my confession. I love you. 
 That's why I'm off why I am going to commit 
 a last crime in order to make good my escape and 
 why afterwards I shall try to live an honest life. 
 It's the one atonement I can offer. 
 "Your devoted and unhappy husband 
 
 "The Rogue." 
 
 "Are you ready, old bird?" 
 
 William Brown, as he was to be from hence-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 217 
 
 forth, started to his feet, and then, as he saw 
 the grinning face in the doorway, nodded a curt 
 assent. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Coast clear?" 
 
 "Yes wait a moment though till I have ad- 
 dressed this envelope." 
 
 "Parting love-letter, eh?" 
 
 "Hold your tongue!" 
 
 George grimaced rudely. William Brown fin- 
 ished his task in stern silence. Then, as he threw 
 the pen down with a sigh of bitter satisfaction, he 
 caught sight of a second envelope addressed to 
 him, propped up against a vase, with the injunc- 
 tion "not to be opened till to-morrow morning." 
 This letter he thrust into his pocket. 
 
 "Are you coming or are you waiting for your 
 escort to take you to Buckingham Palace?" 
 
 "I'm coming I'm coming!" 
 
 A moment later both men stood together in the 
 quiet passage. Downstairs they heard the sub- 
 dued strains of music and the hum of voices. 
 George put his finger to his nose. 
 
 "Grand doings," he said briefly. "The road is 
 as clear as it could be. Try and look innocent, 
 dear boy, and come along. My little friend Susan 
 has given me the key to No. 36 it will be as 
 easy as flying "
 
 2i 8 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 " and about as safe," commented the Rogue 
 gloomily. 
 
 George chuckled but made no answer, and in 
 silence they proceeded down the corridor. Their 
 progress was open and even ostentatious. The 
 chamber-maid who bade them good-night did not 
 even trouble to look after them and yawned her 
 way back to her own quarters. 
 
 "Now 1" said George quietly. 
 
 They had reached room No. 36. George 
 stopped, took a key from his pocket and fitted it 
 into the lock. 
 
 "Susan is to meet me outside the gates," he 
 observed casually. "I hope the dear little thing 
 won't catch cold." 
 
 But on this cynical hope his wretched partner 
 made no comment. The key turned easily, and 
 with a gracefully inviting gesture George mo- 
 tioned William Brown into the dark and silent 
 room. Both darkness and silence oppressed the 
 latter with an eerie prescience of danger, but he 
 said nothing and clenched his chattering teeth, 
 desperately intent on seeing the business through. 
 
 "The safe's over by the window," his com- 
 panion whispered. "Take this electric torch and 
 turn it on when I tell you. We mustn't be waste- 
 ful with the gas." 
 
 On tip-toe both men crossed the room to the 
 spot which George had indicated. A small trav-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 219 
 
 elling safe of determined appearance had been set 
 against the wall and, obeying a curt command, 
 the Rogue switched on the torch. Its straight 
 stream of light fell on the lock and there was a 
 soft clink of steel instruments as George set to 
 work. The business filled William Brown with 
 indescribable and unnatural horror. It was insult 
 added to injury that he couldn't even be dishonest 
 with a good conscience. Whatever he had been 
 in the past he was now a hopeless failure. "I'll 
 have to go straight," he thought. "I can't stand 
 this sort of thing any more I simply can't." He 
 was, in fact, suffering acutely. Every hoarse rasp 
 of the file seemed to vibrate down his backbone 
 and George's breathing magnified itself in his ears 
 to the stentorian snorting of a bull. He looked 
 nervously about him. A shadow moved. He at- 
 tributed it at first to the light then suddenly a 
 fearful suspicion grew to a blood-curdling cer- 
 tainty. 
 
 "George!" he whispered. "There's somebody 
 in the room there behind the wardrobe " 
 
 The next instant the torch was dashed from his 
 hand. He felt himself half dragged, half carried 
 to the open window and before he had time to 
 utter more than a gasp of protest he was flying 
 through a horrible space which ended suddenly 
 and uncomfortably in the mouldy moistness of a 
 flower-bed. Choking, his mouth and eye? and nose
 
 220 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 full of the damp earth, the Rogue scrambled to 
 his feet. The room which he had left thus un- 
 ceremoniously was now brightly lit and excited 
 shadows ran backwards and forwards against the 
 yellow background. But he had no time to con- 
 sider the situation. A figure rose up from the 
 flower bed beside him and gripped him by the 
 arm. 
 
 "We're mugged!" George spluttered. "That 
 vixen that blue-eyed cat has done me. Never 
 trust a woman never. There's nothing for it 
 but to show a clean pair of heels. The gate's no 
 good. Make for the wall. After that try for 
 the station in time for the express. I'll keep to 
 the woods. Off with you !" 
 
 His confederate waited for no more. The in- 
 stinct of self-preservation lent him a speed and 
 agility with which he would never have accredited 
 himself. The five-foot wall might have been two 
 feet the two miles to the station thirty yards. 
 No one intervened to check his wild progress 
 though he swerved at every shadow, and at last 
 the light of Bunmouth Station hove in sight. 
 Breathless, gasping and hatless, he drew up at the 
 booking-office. The instinct of self-preservation 
 had forgotten to lend him a measure of common- 
 sense, for his state would have aroused the sus- 
 picions of an angel. He realised this fact as he 
 passed the barrier and faced the familiar station-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 221 
 
 master. Instinctively he pulled himself up to meet 
 the worst. To his utter amazement the gentleman 
 in dark blue merely touched his cap. 
 
 "Close shave, your lordship," he said pleas- 
 antly. "You seem to have had a run for it." 
 
 "I have," William Brown admitted truthfully. 
 
 "Another minute and you'd have missed," the 
 station-master went on. "I've reserved a compart- 
 ment higher up." 
 
 William Brown shook his head feebly as though 
 protesting against the crazy vagaries of fortune, 
 but followed unresisting. The express was already 
 moving as the guard unlocked the door of a first- 
 class compartment. 
 
 "There you are!" he said. "Just in time, sir I" 
 
 The door was slammed to and the fugitive heard 
 no more. He broke down helplessly in a corner 
 seat and did not move until the lights of the sta- 
 tion had disappeared round a curve. Then for 
 the first time he realised that he was not alone. 
 He looked up and encountered the horrified, be- 
 wildered gaze of the Countess Theodora.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THEY stared at each other for a full minute in 
 frankly aghast silence. The Countess's face was 
 whiter than marble; the perspiration stood out in 
 beads on the Count's forehead. Thrice he es- 
 sayed to speak and twice failed. The third time 
 he managed to bring out her name. 
 
 "Theodora!" 
 
 "Louis!" 
 
 "What in the world are you doing here?" 
 
 She drew herself up defiantly. 
 
 "I'm running away." 
 
 "From me ? Ah, I understand!" He put 
 his shaking hand to his collar. "You have read 
 my letter you know everything?" 
 
 "Your letter? I have it here. I found it on 
 your table but I have not read it." 
 
 "Not read it? Then why are you here? Why 
 are you running away? Ah it is that Saunders 
 that scoundrel " 
 
 "Louis don't you understand? What are you 
 talking about? Haven't you got my note?" 
 
 "7ornote?" 
 
 His jaw dropped. Mechanically he took the 
 
 222
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 223 
 
 crumpled envelope from his pocket and considered 
 it as though it might have been a bomb. 
 
 "I hadn't time," he stammered. "I don't under- 
 stand anything at all." 
 
 "Then why are you here? Why have you come 
 after me? How did you know I was in this 
 train?" 
 
 "Know?" William Brown clasped his hands in 
 mute appeal to the unseen powers. "I didn't 
 know. Otherwise I'd rather have been hanged, 
 drawn and quartered than have got into this car- 
 riage." 
 
 "Then " She endeavoured to steady the 
 trembling of her lips. "I really think it would be 
 simpler if we both read our letters," she said des- 
 perately. 
 
 "It seems like it," Brown admitted. 
 
 In silence they tore open their respective en- 
 velopes. For a minute the Rogue's dazed con- 
 sciousness that she was reading the confession of 
 his villainy blinded him then he forced himself 
 to read the hastily scrawled lines. 
 
 "My husband, I am leaving you because I am 
 unworthy of you. I am a wicked woman. I have 
 deceived you. I have misused your chivalry and 
 goodness. I have taken advantage of your mis- 
 fortune, I am not Theodora de Melville I never 
 was. My name my maiden name was Theo-
 
 224 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 dora Saunders. My people are poor, but, incred- 
 ible as it may seem, honourable. Two years ago, 
 to help them, I became the Countess de Melville's 
 companion and afterwards her intimate friend. 
 With her I learnt to speak French sufficiently well 
 to deceive you thanks to our arrangement to 
 speak English in England my knowledge was never 
 put severely to the test and it was I who fled 
 with her when she came to England to marry you. 
 We waited for you at the appointed meeting place 
 but you never came. We knew nothing of the 
 shipwreck and the Countess believed that she 
 had been betrayed. She dared not return to her 
 people and decided to take refuge with a rich 
 aunt in America. Before she left she gave me all 
 your letters and presents and bade me find you out 
 and give them back to you. I did so as soon as 
 I heard where you were. Naturally I heard also 
 that you had lost your memory. About that time 
 my family was in desperate straits. My brother, 
 Cecil, whom you met, had made debts of honour 
 which he could not meet and dared not confess to 
 his father. It was he who suggested to me that 
 I should play the part of the Countess Theodora. 
 Our Christian names were the same and I had 
 your letters to help me. Louis all the same I 
 did not mean to go through with it but the 
 trick was so horribly, painfully successful. I was 
 driven on and on. Cecil pointed out to me that
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 225 
 
 even if I was found out it wouldn't be so bad. I 
 could have concealed my own identity and my 
 father and mother would have been spared the 
 disgrace of a dishonoured son. You see it was 
 a choice between the son and the daughter and 
 it is always better for the daughter to go under, 
 isn't it? Of course my people knew nothing they 
 believe I am still earning my bread honourably. 
 Cecil helped me to deceive them, but now that he 
 is on his way to South Africa there is no reason 
 why I should go on with the cruel farce. Further 
 deceit is useless and discovery imminent. In any 
 case I could not have borne it any longer. I have 
 acted wickedly, shamelessly, criminally, but I have 
 suffered! Oh, I have suffered terribly. When I 
 think of that dreadful woman that Mrs. Pagot- 
 Chump 1 Of course you had no reason to care 
 for me I had deceived you and your instinct knew 
 it but it hurt all the same. And now comes the 
 worst part of my punishment: I must leave you 
 and you must know who I really am. I can hardly 
 bear it. Oh, Louis, Fate has played me such a 
 cruel trick! She has made me care for the man 
 I have treated so badly she has made me love 
 him. Oh, Louis, if you only knew how miserable 
 I have been you would forgive as I hope you will 
 forget 
 
 "Your loving and unhappy 
 
 "Theodora."
 
 226 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 William Brown looked up. His wife looked 
 up at the same moment. Simultaneously they 
 broke out into an hysterical peal of laughter. 
 
 "Louis you humbug!" 
 
 "Theodora my darling adventuress!" 
 
 "Then you're not the Count?" 
 
 "No you're sure you're not the Countess?" 
 
 "Positive!" 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" 
 
 He caught her in a wild joyful embrace and for 
 a full two minutes detectives, pursuing policemen 
 and deeply injured French noblemen were for- 
 gotten in a tumult of happiness. Then William 
 Brown gently released himself. 
 
 "You don't know what I've done, Theodora," 
 he said. "I've robbed and forged perhaps mur- 
 dered. It's a lifer at least if I get caught." 
 
 "I don't care I'll wait for you I'll hang 
 with you I'll stand by you whatever happens 
 whatever you've done!" 
 
 "Theodora angel !" 
 
 "My dear, dear Rogue!" 
 
 It was at that precise and beautiful moment that 
 the Express went off the rails. The accident has 
 always been one of the mysteries of that particu- 
 lar line for the train was not travelling at a great 
 speed. The shock was nevertheless sufficient to 
 separate the newly united couple and send the 
 Rogue flying across the compartment, where the
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 227 
 
 back of his head encountered the door handle. 
 He was briefly aware of a magnificent display of 
 celestial fireworks and of somebody calling to 
 him from a long way off then everything rolled 
 away into velvety darkness and peaceful silence. 
 
 When the velvety darkness began to thin the 
 Rogue made no attempt to hasten the process. He 
 was feeling very comfortable, very happy, entirely 
 disinclined to exert himself. He was vaguely 
 aware that a change had come over him but what 
 the change was he could not be bothered to think 
 and, when he opened his eyes at last, the sight of 
 his hotel bed-room and a white-haired man seated 
 beside him caused him no particular surprise. 
 
 "Hullo, dad!" he said simply and cheerfully. 
 The minute he had spoken however, he knew that 
 something wonderful had happened that the 
 vaguely felt change had become definite. He sat 
 up with his hand to his bandaged head and stared 
 about him. "Why, what's happened?" he asked. 
 
 The old gentleman laid a soothing affectionate 
 hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "My dear boy you've recovered your memory 
 that's all," he said. "You know who I am, 
 don't you?" 
 
 "Of course you're my father." 
 
 "And you know who you are?" 
 
 "Why Roger Lancaster of course !"
 
 228 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 Dr. Frohlocken, who had been standing con- 
 cealed behind the curtains of the window, appeared 
 at this moment, like an unusual looking Deus ex 
 machina. 
 
 "May this be a lesson to you all," he said 
 severely. "But more than anyone I blame that 
 idiot that Inspector. Didn't I protest? Didn't 
 I tell him? Circumstantial evidence ! Nonsense I 
 Rubbish! Utterly unscientific. And you your- 
 self, No. 7 led astray by a ridiculous pig! How- 
 ever, let that pass. Do you remember how you 
 came to London?" 
 
 "I came to study." 
 
 "Right ! You observe Mr. Lancaster you will 
 note a complete recovery. You remember how 
 you came to lose consciousness." 
 
 "I believe I was attacked by someone." 
 
 "Probably and afterwards when you came 
 round do you remember that?" 
 
 The patient stared at his father in sudden 
 white-faced consternation. 
 
 "Why yes, I do I" he gasped. "Good heavens 
 what an awful kettle of fish ! What shall I do, 
 sir? Get me out of England before that Count 
 and Mrs. Pagot-Chump catch me, or there'll be 
 murder." 
 
 Mr. Lancaster chuckled. 
 
 "Don't worry, my dear boy. Everything has 
 been explained. Thanks to an er slight scien-
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 229 
 
 tific miscalculation the Count de Beaulieu was 
 arrested yesterday on a charge of fraudulent mis- 
 representation, but I got him out this morning and 
 he has accepted apologies, explanations and com- 
 pensations. The Countess is at the present mo- 
 ment in the next room, renewing her friendship 
 and exchanging notes with your wife." He 
 paused and watched his son narrowly. "It appears 
 that the Count made his escape from the hospital 
 in order to follow the Countess when he heard 
 that she had gone to America. He overtook her 
 in New York and after various explanations and 
 reconciliations they were married out there. As 
 to Mrs. Pagot-Chump well, she assures me that 
 the pleasure of making your acquaintance atones 
 for any unpleasantness. So you see, all's well that 
 ends well." 
 
 Roger Lancaster shook his head. 
 
 "It's all a most glorious confusion," he said. 
 "How did you find me out, sir?" 
 
 "When I missed you I travelled all over Europe 
 after you," the elder man answered. "Fortunately 
 I obtained the services of this gentleman here." 
 He indicated the small neatly attired individual 
 who was leaning negligently against the mantel- 
 piece. "I think you have met before." 
 
 "Washington Jones, Private Detective, at your 
 service," the little man said with an easy bow. 
 "Pleased to welcome you back to your right mind,
 
 230 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 sir. Thought I knew you when we met in Herbert 
 Street, but couldn't be sure till I got your father 
 on the spot. One of my best jobs, sir." 
 
 "I'm sure we're very grateful," Roger 
 answered. He glanced uneasily at the door. "I 
 say though what about George and that 
 that Pig?" 
 
 Mr. Washington Jones' face creased itself into 
 innumerable folds of laughter, though he made 
 no sound. 
 
 "George and the Lucky Pig have disappeared 
 and I don't suppose we shall see either of 'em 
 again," he said. "This letter, addressed to the 
 Count de Beaulieu's locum tenens, arrived at the 
 Bunmouth Hotel this morning. I ventured to open 
 it and here it is. If you permit me to read it to 
 you I guess you won't need much more explain- 
 ing." He took out a dirty sheet of paper from 
 his pocket and cleared his throat. 
 
 "Dear old bird," he read out. "You are not 
 Slippery Bill you're merely a Silly Duffer. What 
 else you are besides this I really don't know ex- 
 cept that you're the fellow I dropped on that 
 evening Dr. Frohlocken missed his silver. I 
 changed clothes with you whilst you were dozing 
 on the doorstep I fear I have rather a heavy 
 hand and that is how you came to have my Lucky 
 Pig, which animal, by the way, I ventured to nip
 
 ROGUES & COMPANY 231 
 
 off your watch-chain at parting. In exchange I 
 intended to return the gold watch I accepted from 
 you at our first meeting but really we were rather 
 pressed for time, were we not, and I am sure you 
 will not grudge me the little souvenir. Please give 
 my respects to Dr. Frohlocken and tell him his 
 silver was really very much over-estimated and 
 quite beneath my notice. Also suggest to Mon- 
 sieur Bonnet that he forgive Susan as soon as 
 he recovers his temper. She is quite a nice little 
 thing and should make an excellent cook, if her 
 hands are anything like as light as her brains. 
 And now, good-bye! You were not much good 
 in my profession, but you made an excellent Count, 
 and I have not the slightest doubt that you are 
 really something highly respectable. In any case 
 I shall always bear you in affectionate remem- 
 brance as a well intentioned understudy and 
 partner. 
 
 "Yours faithfully, 
 
 "William Brown, alias Slippery Bill." 
 
 "P. S. Give my love to the police and tell 
 them that No. 10, Herbert Street is to let un- 
 furnished." 
 
 "Well, upon my word, I hope they don't catch 
 him!" the late William Brown declared delight- 
 edly.
 
 232 ROGUES & COMPANY 
 
 "And you can stake your bottom dollar that 
 they won't," said Mr. Washington Jones, "un- 
 less he lands in the States, of course, in which 
 case " 
 
 But the younger Lancaster was not listening. 
 At that moment the door had opened and he held 
 out his hands in glad recognition. 
 
 "Theodora I" he said. 
 
 She came towards him bravely and a little de- 
 fiantly. 
 
 "I don't know, now that you have recovered 
 your memory, if you want to see me again," she 
 said. 
 
 "I want to see and keep you always." 
 
 "You are sure ? Remember who I am and what 
 I have done!" 
 
 "A man who has rejoiced in the name of Slip- 
 pery Bill and tried to rob his own father is 
 scarcely in the position to throw stones," observed 
 the elder Lancaster grimly. 
 
 "In fact, since we're rather shady characters," 
 his son suggested, "we have just got to join forces, 
 my wife!" 
 
 "Rogues & Company!" suggested Dr. Froh- 
 locken pleasantly. But as the two chief members 
 of his audience were far too absorbed in each 
 other to notice him this last stroke of genius 
 passed without recognition. 
 
 THE END
 
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