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 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION
 
 "Ah, but 3'ou will not scold me?" she begged. "It is the 
 storm which terrifies me." Frontispiece. See page 135.
 
 THE GREAT 
 IMPERSONATION 
 
 BY 
 E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 NANA FRENCH BICKFORD 
 
 BOSTON 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY 
 
 1920
 
 Copyright, 1920, 
 By Little, Brown, and Company 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published January, 1920 
 
 Reprinted. January. 1920 {three times) 
 
 Reprinted, February, 1920
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " Ah, but you will not scold me? " she begged. 
 
 " It is the storm which terrifies me " Frontispiece 
 
 " To-night I break what has become a rule with 
 me. I shall drink to the new things that 
 may yet come to both of us " . . Page 18 
 
 He swimg around to find Seaman standing upon 
 
 the threshold "182 
 
 Into the open there came a dark shape, the irreg- 
 ularity of its movements swiftly explained " 303 
 
 2037536
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 The trouble from which great events were to 
 come began when Everard Domine\s who had been 
 fighting his way through the scrub for the last 
 three quarters of an hour towards those thin, spiral 
 M'isps of smoke, urged his pony to a last despairing 
 effort and came crashing through the great oleander 
 shrub to pitch forward on his head in the little clear- 
 ing. It developed the next morning, when he found 
 liimself for the first time for many months on a 
 truckle bed, between linen sheets, with a cool, bamboo- 
 twisted roof between him and the relentless sun. He 
 raised himself a little in the bed. 
 
 " Where the mischief am I.'' " he demanded. 
 
 A black boy, seated cross-legged in the entrance 
 of the banda, rose to his feet, mumbled something 
 and disappeared. In a few moments the tall, slim 
 figure of a European, in spotless white riding clothes, 
 stooped down and came over to Dominey's side. 
 
 "You are better.^' " he enquired politely. 
 
 " Yes, I am," was the somewhat brusque rejoinder. 
 " Where the mischief am I, and who are you .'' " 
 
 The newcomer's manner stiffened. He was a per- 
 son of dignified carriage, and his tone conve^'ed some 
 measure of rebuke.
 
 2 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " You are within half a mile of the Irivvarri River, 
 if 3"ou know where that is," he replied, — " about 
 seventj-two miles southeast of the Darawaga Settle- 
 ment." 
 
 " The devil ! Then I am in German East Africa ? " 
 
 " Without a doubt." 
 
 "And 3"ou are German?" 
 
 " I have that honour." 
 
 Dominey whistled softly. 
 
 " Awfully sorry to have intruded," he said. " I 
 left Marlinstein two and a half months ago, with 
 twenty boys and plenty of stores. We were doing 
 a big trek after lions. I took some new Askaris in 
 and they made trouble, — looted the stores one night 
 and there was the devil to pay. I was obliged to 
 shoot one or two, and the rest deserted. They took 
 my compass, damn them, and I'm nearly a hundred 
 miles out of my bearings. You couldn't give me a 
 drink, could you? " 
 
 " With pleasure, if the doctor approves," was the 
 courteous answer. " Here, Jan ! " 
 
 The boy sprang up, listened to a word or two 
 of brief command in his own language, and disap- 
 peared through the hanging grass which led into 
 another hut. The two men exchanged glances of 
 rather more than ordinary interest. Then Dominey 
 laughed. 
 
 " I know what you're thinking," he said. " It gave 
 me quite a start when 3"ou came in. We're devil- 
 ishly alike, aren't we ? " 
 
 " There is a very strong likeness between us," the 
 other admitted.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 3 
 
 Dominey leaned his head upon his hand and stud- 
 ied his host. The likeness was clear enough, al- 
 though the advantage was all in favour of the man 
 who stood by the side of the camp bedstead with 
 folded arms. Everard Dominey, for the first twenty- 
 six years of his life, had lived as an ordinary young 
 Englishman of his position, — Eton, Oxford, a few 
 years in the Army, a few years about town, during 
 which he had succeeded in making a still more hope- 
 less muddle of his already encumbered estates : a 
 few months of tragedy, and then a blank. After- 
 wards ten years — at first in the cities, then in the 
 dark places of Africa — years of which no man 
 knew anything. The Everard Dominey of ten years 
 ago had been, without a doubt, good-looking. The 
 finely shaped features remained, but the eyes had 
 lost their lustre, his figure its elasticity, his mouth 
 its firmness. He had the look of a man run pre- 
 maturely to seed, wasted by fevers and dissipation. 
 Not so his present companion. His features were 
 as finely shaped, cast in an even stronger though 
 similar mould. His eyes were bright and full of 
 fire, his mouth and chin firm, bespeaking a man of 
 deeds, his tall figure lithe and supple. He had the 
 air of being in perfect health, in perfect mental and 
 physical condition, a man who lived with dignity and 
 some measure of content, notwithstanding the slight 
 gravity of his expression. 
 
 " Yes," the Englishman muttered, " there's no 
 doubt about the likeness, though I suppose I should 
 look more like you than I do if I'd taken care of 
 myself. But I haven't. That's the devil of it. I've
 
 4 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 gone the other way ; tried to chuck my life away and 
 pretty nearly succeeded, too." 
 
 The dried grasses were thrust on one side, and 
 the doctor entered, — a little round man, also clad 
 in immaculate white, with yellow-gold hair and 
 thick spectacles. His countryman pointed towards 
 the bed. 
 
 " Will you examine our patient, Herr Doctor, and 
 prescribe for him what is necessary.'^ He has asked 
 for drink. Let him have wine, or whatever is good 
 for him. If he is well enough, he will join our eve- 
 ning meal. I present my excuses. I have a de- 
 spatch to write." 
 
 The man on the couch turned his head and watched 
 the departing figure with a shade of envy in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "What is my preserver's name.^ " he asked the 
 doctor. 
 
 The latter looked as though the question were ir- 
 reverent. 
 
 " It is His Excellency the Major-General Baron 
 Leopold von Ragastein." 
 
 " All that ! " Dominey muttered. " Is he the Gov- 
 ernor, or something of that sort.'' " 
 
 " He is Military Commandant of the Colony," the 
 doctor replied. " He has also a special mission 
 here." 
 
 " Damned fine-looking fellow for a German," Dom- 
 iney remarked, with unthinking insolence. 
 
 The doctor was unmoved. He was feeling his pa- 
 tient's pulse. He concluded his examination a few 
 minutes later,
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 5 
 
 "You have drunk much whisky lately, so?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I don't know what the devil it's got to do with 
 you," was the curt reply, " but I drink whisky 
 whenever I can get it. Who wouldn't in this pesti- 
 lential climate ! " 
 
 The doctor shook his head. 
 
 " The climate is good as he is treated," he de- 
 clared, " His Excellency drinks nothing but light 
 wine and seltzer water. He has been here for five 
 years, not only here but in the swamps, and he has 
 not been ill one day." 
 
 " Well, I have been at death's door a dozen times," 
 the Englishman rejoined a little recklessly, " and 
 I don't much mind when I hand in my checks, but 
 until that time comes I shall drink whisky whenever 
 I can get it." 
 
 " The cook is preparing you some luncheon," the 
 doctor announced, " which it will do you good to 
 eat. I cannot give you whisky at this moment, but 
 you can have some hock and seltzer with bay leaves." 
 
 " Send it along," was the enthusiastic reply. 
 " What a constitution I must h-ave, doctor ! The 
 smell of that cooking outside is making me raven- 
 ous." 
 
 " Your constitution is still sound if you would 
 onl}' respect it," was the comforting assurance. 
 
 "Anything been heard of the rest of my party .f* " 
 Dominey enquired. 
 
 " Some bodies of Askaris have been washed up 
 from the river," the doctor informed him, " and two 
 of 3'our ponies have been eaten by lions. You will
 
 6 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 excuse. I have the wounds of a native to dress, who 
 was bitten last night by a jaguar." 
 
 The traveller, left alone, lay still in the hut, and 
 his thoughts wandered backwards. He looked out 
 over the bare, scrubby stretch of land Avhich had 
 been cleared for this encampment to the mass of 
 bush and flowering shrubs beyond, mysterious and 
 impenetrable save for that rough elephant track 
 along which he had travelled; to the broad-bosomed 
 river, blue as the sky above, and to the mountains 
 fading into mist be3'ond. The face of his host had 
 carried him back into the past. Puzzled reminis- 
 cence tugged at the strings of memory. It came 
 to him later on at dinner time, when they three, the 
 Commandant, the doctor and himself, sat at a little 
 table arranged just outside the hut, that they might 
 catch the faint breeze from the mountains, herald 
 of the swift-falling darkness. Native servants beat 
 the air around them with bamboo fans to keep off 
 the insects, and the air was faint almost to noxious- 
 ness with the perfume of some sickly, exotic shrub. 
 
 " Wh}", you're Devinter ! " he exclaimed suddenly, 
 — " Sigismund Devinter ! You were at Eton with 
 me — Horrock's House — semi-final in the racquets." 
 
 " And Magdalen afterwards, number five in the 
 boat." 
 
 " And why the devil did the doctor here tell me 
 that your name was Von Ragastein? " 
 
 " Because it happens to be the truth," was the 
 somewhat measured reply. " Devinter is my family 
 name, and the one by which I was known when in 
 England. When I succeeded to the barony and es-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 7 
 
 tates at my uncle's death, however, I was compelled 
 to also take the title." 
 
 " Well, it's a small world ! " Dominey exclaimed. 
 " What brought you out here really — lions or ele- 
 phants ? " 
 
 " Neither." 
 
 " You mean to say that you've taken up this sort 
 of political business just for its own sake, not for 
 sport.'' " 
 
 " Entirely so. I do not use a sporting rifle once 
 a month, except for necessity. I came to Africa for 
 different reasons." 
 
 Dominey drank deep of his hock and seltzer and 
 leaned back, watching the fireflies rise above the tall- 
 bladed grass, above the stumpy clumps of shrub, and 
 hang like miniature stars in the clear, violet air, 
 
 " What a world ! " he soliloquised. " Siggy De- 
 vinter, Baron von Ragastein, out here, slaving for 
 God knows what, drilling niggers to fight God knows 
 whom, a political machine, I suppose, future Gov- 
 ernor-General of German Africa, eh.'' You were al- 
 w-ays proud of your country, Devinter." 
 
 " My country is a country to be proud of," was 
 the solemn reply. 
 
 " Well, you're in earnest, anyhow," Dom.ine}' con- 
 tinued, " in earnest about something. And I — w^ell, 
 it's finished with me. It would have been finished 
 last night if I hadn't seen the smoke from 3'our 
 fires, and I don't much care — that's the trouble. 
 I go blundering on. I suppose the end will come 
 somehow, sometime. — Can I have some rum or 
 whisky, Devinter — I mean Von Ragastein — Your
 
 8 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Excellency — or whatever I ought to say? You see 
 those wreaths of mist down by the river? They'll 
 mean malaria for me unless I have spirits." 
 
 " I have something better than either," Von Ra- 
 gastein replied. " You shall give me your opinion 
 of this." 
 
 The orderly who stood behind his master's chair, 
 received a whispered order, disappeared into the com- 
 missariat hut and came back presently with a bottle 
 at the sight of which the Englishman gasped. 
 
 " Napoleon ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Just a few bottles I had sent to me," his host 
 explained. " I am delighted to offer it to some one 
 who will appreciate it." 
 
 " By Jove, there's no mistake about that ! " Dom- 
 iney declared, rolling it around in his glass. " What 
 a world ! I hadn't eaten for thirty hours when 
 I rolled up here last night, and drunk nothing but 
 filthy water for days. To-night, fricassee of chicken, 
 n^hite bread, cabinet hock and Napoleon brandy. 
 And to-morrow again — well, who knows? When do 
 you move on. Von Ragastein? " 
 
 " Not for several days." 
 
 " What the mischief do you find to do so far from 
 headquarters, if j'ou don't shoot lions or elephants? " 
 his guest asked curiously. 
 
 " If 3'ou really wish to know," Von Ragastein re- 
 plied, " I am annoying your political agents im- 
 mensely by moving from place to place, collecting 
 natives for drill." 
 
 " But what do you want to drill them for? " Dom- 
 iney persisted. " I heard some time ago that you
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 9 
 
 have four times as many natives under arms as wc 
 have. You don't want an army here. You're not 
 likely to quarrel with us or the Portuguese." 
 
 " It is our custom," Von Ragastein declared a 
 little didactically, " in Germany and wherever we 
 Germans go, to be prepared not only for what is 
 likely to happen but for what might possibly hap- 
 pen." 
 
 " A war in mj younger da3's, when I was in the 
 Army," Dominey mused, " might have made a man 
 of me." 
 
 "Surely you had j^our chance out here?" 
 Dominey shook his head. 
 
 " My battalion never left the country," he said. 
 '' We were shut up in Ireland all the time. That 
 WSLS the reason I chucked the army when I was really 
 only a boy." 
 
 Later on they dragged their chairs a little farther 
 out into the darkness, smoking cigars and drinking 
 some rather wonderful coffee. The doctor had gone 
 off to see a patient, and Von Ragastein was thought- 
 ful. Their guest, on the other hand, continued to 
 be reminiscently discursive. 
 
 " Our meeting," he observed, lazily stretching out 
 his hand for his glass, " should be full of interest 
 to the psj'chologist. Here we arc, brought together 
 by some miraculous chance to spend one night of 
 our lives in an African jungle, two human beings of 
 the same age, brought up together thousands of 
 miles away, jogging on towards the eternal blackness 
 along lines as far apart as the mind can conceive." 
 " Your eyes are fixed," Von Ragastein murmured,
 
 ic THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " uport that very blackness behind which the sun will 
 rise at dawn. You will see it come up from behind 
 the mountains in that precise spot, like a new and 
 blazing world." 
 
 " Don't put me off with allegories," his companion 
 objected petulantly. " The eternal blackness exists 
 surely enough, even if my metaphor is faulty. I 
 am disposed to be philosophical. Let me ramble on. 
 Here am I, an idler in my boyhood, a harmless pleas- 
 ure-seeker in my youth till I ran up against tragedy, 
 and since then a drifter, a drifter with a slowly 
 growing vice, lolling through life with no definite 
 purpose, with no definite hope or wish, except," he 
 went on a little drowsily, " that I think I'd like to 
 be buried somewhere near the base of those moun- 
 tains, on the other side of the river, from behind 
 which you say the sun comes up every morning like 
 a world on fire." 
 
 " You talk foolishly," Von Ragastein protested. 
 " If there has been tragedy in your life, you have 
 time to get over it. You are not yet forty years 
 old." 
 
 " Then I turn and consider 3'ou," Dominey con- 
 tinued, ignoring altogether his friend's remark. 
 " You are only my age, and 3'ou look ten years 
 younger. Your muscles are hard, your e^^es are as 
 bright as they were in your school da3's. You carry 
 yourself like a man with a purpose. You rise at 
 five every morning, the doctor tells me, and you re- 
 turn here, worn out, at dusk. You spend every mo- 
 ment of your time drilling those filthy blacks. When 
 you are not doing that, you are prospecting, super-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION ii 
 
 vising reports home, trying to make the best of your 
 few millions of acres of fever swamps. The doctor 
 worships you but who else knows? What do you 
 do it for, my friend? " 
 
 " Because it is my duty," was the calm reply. 
 
 " Duty ! But why can't you do 3'our duty in your 
 own country, and live a man's life, and hold the hands 
 of white men, and look into the ej^es of white women? " 
 
 " I go where I am needed most," Von Ragastein 
 answered. "I do not enjoy drilling natives, I do 
 not enjo}^ passing the 3^ears as an outcast from the 
 ordinary joys of human life. But I follow my 
 star." 
 
 " And I my will-o'-the-wisp," Dominey laughed 
 mockingly. " The whole thing's as plain as a pike- 
 staff. You may be a dull dog — 3'ou alwaj's were 
 on the serious side — but you're a man of prin- 
 ciple. I'm a slacker." 
 
 " The difference between us," Von Ragastein pro- 
 nounced, " is something which is inculcated into the 
 youth of our countr\' and which is not inculcated 
 into yours. In England, with a little money, a little 
 birth, 3'our young men expect to find the world a 
 playground for sport, a garden for loves. The 
 mightiest German noble who ever lived has his work 
 to do. It is work which makes fibre, which gives 
 balance to life." 
 
 Dominey sighed. His cigar, dearly prized though 
 it had been, was cold between his fingers. In that 
 perfumed darkness, illuminated only by the faint 
 gleam of the shaded tamp behind, his face seemed 
 suddenly white and old. His host leaned towards
 
 12 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 him and spoke for the first time in the kindlier tones 
 of their youth. 
 
 " You hinted at tragedy, my friend. You are 
 not alone. Tragedy also has entered my life. Per- 
 haps if things had been otherwise, I should have found 
 work in more joyous places, but sorrow came to me, 
 and I am here." 
 
 A quick flash of sympathy lit up Dominey's face. 
 
 " We met trouble in a different fashion," he 
 groaned. 
 
 1 
 
 / 
 
 I
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Dominey slept till late the following morning, and 
 when he woke at last from a long, dreamless slumber, 
 he was conscious of a curious quietness in the camp. 
 The doctor, who came in to see him, explained it 
 immediately after his morning greeting. 
 
 " His Excellency," he announced, " has received 
 important despatches from home. He has gone to 
 meet an envoy from Dar-es-Salaam. He will be 
 away for three daj^s. He desired that you would 
 remain his guest until his return." 
 
 " Very good of him," Dominey murmured. " Is 
 there any European new^s? " 
 
 " I do not know," was the stolid reply. " His Ex- 
 cellency desired me to inform 3'ou that if you cared 
 for a short trip along the banks of the river, south- 
 ward, there are a dozen boys left and some ponies. 
 There are plenty of lion, and rhino may be met with 
 at one or two places which the natives know of." 
 
 Dominey bathed and dressed, sipped his excellent 
 coffee, and lounged about the place in uncertain mood. 
 He unburdened himself to the doctor as they drank 
 tea together late in the afternoon. 
 
 " I am not in the least keen on hunting," he con- 
 fessed, " and I feel like a horrible sponge, but all the 
 same I have a queer sort of feeling that I'd like to 
 see Von Ragastein again. Your silent 'chief rather
 
 14 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 fascinates me, Herr Doctor. He is a man. He has 
 something which I have lost." 
 
 " He is a great man," the doctor declared en- 
 thusiastically. " What he sets his mind to do, he 
 does." 
 
 " I suppose I might have been like that," Dominey 
 sighed, " if I had had an incentive. Have you no- 
 ticed the likeness between us, Herr Doctor.'' " 
 
 The latter nodded. 
 
 " I noticed it from the first moment of your ar- 
 rival," he assented. " You are very much alike yet 
 very different. The resemblance must have been 
 still more remarkable in your youth. Time has dealt 
 with your features according to your deserts." 
 
 " Well, you needn't rub it in," Dominey protested 
 irritably. 
 
 " I am rubbing nothing in," the doctor replied 
 with unruffled calm. " I speak the truth. If you 
 had been possessed of the same moral stamina as His 
 Excellency, you might have preserved your health 
 and the things that count. You might have been 
 as useful to your country as he is to his." 
 
 " I suppose I am pretty rocky, eh? " 
 
 " Your constitution has been abused. You still, 
 however, have much vitality. If you cared to exer- 
 cise self-control for a few months, you would be a 
 different man. — You must excuse. I have work." 
 
 Dominey spent three restless days. Even the sight 
 of a herd of elephants in the river and that strange, 
 fierce chorus of night sounds, as beasts of prey crept 
 noiselessly around the camp, failed to move him. 
 For the moment his love of sport, his last hold upon
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 15 
 
 the world of real things, seemed dead. What did it 
 matter, the killing of an animal more or less? His 
 mind was fixed uneasily upon the past, searching al- 
 ways for something which he failed to discover. At 
 dawn he watched for that strangely wonderful, trans- 
 forming birth of the day, and at night he sat out- 
 side the banda, waiting till the mountains on the 
 other side of the river had lost shape and faded into 
 the violet darkness. His conversation with Von Ra- 
 gastein had unsettled him. Without knowing defi- 
 nitely why, he wanted him back again. Memories 
 that had long since ceased to torture were finding 
 their way once more into his brain. On the first day 
 he had striven to rid himself of them in the usual 
 fashion. 
 
 "Doctor, you've got some whisky, haven't you.'' " 
 he asked. 
 
 The doctor nodded. 
 
 " There is a case somewhere to be found," he ad- 
 mitted. " His Excellency told me that I was to re- 
 fuse you nothing, but he advises 3'ou to drink only 
 the white wine until his return." 
 
 " He really left that message.'' " 
 
 " Precisely as I have delivered it." 
 
 The desire for whisky passed, came again but was 
 beaten back, returned in the night so that he sat 
 up with the sweat pouring down his face and his 
 tongue parched. He drank lithia water instead. 
 Late in the afternoon of the third day. Von Ragastein 
 rode into the camp. His clothes were torn and 
 drenched with the black mud of the swamps, dust 
 and dirt were thick upon his face. His pony almost
 
 i6 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 collapsed as he swung himself off. Nevertheless, he 
 paused to greet his guest with punctilious courtesy, 
 and there was a gleam of real satisfaction in liis eyes 
 as the two men shook hands. 
 
 " I am glad that you are still here," he said heart- 
 ily. " Excuse me while I bathe and change. We 
 will dine a little earlier. So far I have not eaten to- 
 day." 
 
 "A long trek.?" Dominey asked curiously. 
 
 " I have trekked far," was the quiet reply. 
 
 At dinner time. Von Ragastein was once more him- 
 self, immaculate in white duck, with clean linen, 
 shaved, and with little left of his fatigue. There 
 was something different in his manner, however, some 
 change which puzzled Dominey. He was at once 
 more attentive to his guest, yet further removed 
 from him in spirit and sympathy. He kept the con- 
 versation with curious insistence upon incidents of 
 their school and college da^^s, upon the subject of 
 Dominey's friends and relations, and the later epi- 
 sodes of his life. Dominey felt himself all the time 
 encouraged to talk about his earlier life, and all the 
 time he was conscious that for some reason or other 
 his host's closest and most minute attention was be- 
 ing given to his slightest word. Champagne had 
 been served and served freely, and Dominey, up to 
 the very gates of that one secret chamber, talked 
 volubly and without reserve. After the meal was 
 over, their chairs were dragged as before into the 
 open. The silent orderly produced even larger 
 cigars, and Dominey found his glass filled once more 
 with the wonderful brandy. The doctor had left
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 17 
 
 them to visit the native camp nearly a quarter of a 
 mile away, and the orderly was busy inside, clear- 
 ing the table. Only the black shapes of the serv- 
 ants were dimly visible as they twirled their fans, — 
 and overhead the leaning stars. They were 
 alone. 
 
 " I've been talking an awful lot of rot about my- 
 self," Dominey said. " Tell me a little about your 
 career now and your life in Germany before you came 
 out here.'' " 
 
 Von Ragastein made no immediate reply, and a 
 curious silence ebbed and flowed between the two 
 men. Every now and then a star shot across the 
 sky. The red rim of the moon rose a little higher 
 from behind the mountains. The bush stillness, al- 
 ways the most mysterious of silences, seemed grad- 
 ually to become charged with unvoiced passion. 
 Soon the animals began to call around them, creep- 
 ing nearer and nearer to the fire which burned at 
 the end of the open space. 
 
 " My friend," Von Ragastein said at last, speak- 
 ing with the air of a man who has spent much time 
 in deliberation, " you speak to me of Germany, of 
 my homeland. Perhaps you have guessed that it 
 is not duty alone which has brought me here to these 
 wild places. I, too, left behind me a traged3^" 
 
 Dominey's quick impulse of sympathy was smoth- 
 ered by the stem, almost harsh repression of the 
 other's manner. The words seemed to have been 
 torn from his throat. There was no spark of ten- 
 derness or regret in his set face. 
 
 " Since the day of my banishment," he went on,
 
 i8 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " no word of this matter has passed my lips. To- 
 night it is not weakness which assails me, but a de- 
 sire to yield to the strange arm of coincidence. You 
 and I, schoolmates and college friends, though sons 
 of a different country, meet here in the wilderness, 
 each with the iron in our souls. I shall tell you the 
 thing which happened to me, and you shall speak to 
 me of your own curse." 
 
 " I cannot ! " Dominey groaned. 
 
 " But you will," was the stern reply. " Listen." 
 
 An hour passed, and the voices of the two men had 
 ceased. The howling of the animals had lessened with 
 the paling of the fires, and a slow, melancholy ripple 
 of breeze was passing through the bush and lapping 
 the surface of the river. It was Von Ragastein who 
 broke through what might almost have seemed a 
 trance. He rose to his feet, vanished inside the 
 banda, and reappeared a moment or two later with 
 two tumblers. One he set down in the space pro- 
 vided for it in the arm of his guest's chair. 
 
 " To-night I break what has become a rule with 
 me," he announced. " I shall drink a whisky and 
 soda. I shall drink to the new things that may 
 yet come to both of us." 
 
 "You are giving up your work here.^ " Dominey 
 asked curiously. 
 
 " I am part of a great machine," was the some- 
 what evasive reply. " I have nothing to do but 
 obey." 
 
 A flicker of passion distorted Dominey's face, 
 flamed for a moment in his tone. 
 
 "Are you content to live and die like this.^ " he
 
 To-night I break what has become a rule with me. I shall 
 drink to the new things that may yet come to both of us." 
 Pase 18.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 19 
 
 demanded. " Don't you want to get back to where 
 a different sort of sun will warm your heart and 
 fill your pulses? This primitive world i? in its way 
 colossal, but it isn't human, it isn't a life for hu- 
 mans. We want the streets, Von Ragastein, 3'ou and 
 I. We want the tide of people flowing around us, 
 the roar of wheels and the hum of human voices. 
 Curse these animals ! If I live in this countrj^ much 
 longer, I shall go on all fours." 
 
 " You 3'ield too much to environment," his com- 
 panion observed. " In the life of the cities you would 
 be a sentimentalist." 
 
 " No cit}^ nor any civilised country will ever claim 
 me again," Dominey sighed. " I should never have 
 the courage to face what might come." 
 
 Von Ragastein rose to his feet. The dim outline 
 of his erect form was in a way majestic. He seemed 
 to tower over the man who lounged in the chair be- 
 low him. 
 
 " Finish your whisky and soda to our next meeting, 
 friend of my school days," he begged. " To-morrow, 
 before you awake, I shall be gone." 
 
 "So'soon.P" 
 
 " By to-morrow night," Von Ragastein replied, 
 " I must be on the other side of those mountains. 
 This must be our farewell." 
 
 Dominey was querulous, almost pathetic. He had 
 a sudden hatred of solitude. 
 
 " I must trek westward myself directly," he pro- 
 tested, " or eastward, or northward — it doesn't so 
 much matter. Can't we travel together? " 
 
 Von Ragastein shook his head.
 
 20 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I travel officially, and I must travel alone," he 
 replied. " As for yourself, they will be breaking up 
 here to-morrow, but they will lend you an escort and 
 put you in the direction 3'ou wish to take. This, 
 alas, is as much as I can do for you. For us it must 
 be farewell." 
 
 " Well, I can't force myself upon you," Dominey 
 said a little wistfuHy. " It seems strange, though, 
 to meet right out here, far away even from the by- 
 ways of life, just to shake hands and pass on. I 
 am sick to death of niggers and animals." 
 
 " It is Fate," Von Ragastein decided. " Where I 
 go, I must go alone. Farewell, dear friend ! We 
 will drink the toast we drank our last night in your 
 rooms at Magdalen. That Sanscrit man translated 
 it for us: 'May each find what he seeks!' We 
 must follow our star." 
 
 Dominey lauglied a little bitterly. He pointed to 
 a light glowing fitfully in the bush. 
 
 " My will-o'-the-wisp," he muttered recklessly, 
 " leading where I shall follow^ — into the swamps ! " 
 
 A few minutes later Dominey threw himself upon 
 his couch, curiously and unaccountably drowsy. 
 Von Ragastein, who had come in to wish him good 
 night, stood looking down at him for several mo- 
 ments with significant intentness. Then, satisfied 
 that his guest really slept, he turned and passed 
 through the han^ng curtain of dried grasses into the 
 next banda, where the doctor, still full}' dressed, was 
 awaiting him. Thc^^ spoke together in German and 
 with lowered voices. Von Ragastein had lost some- 
 thing of his imperturbability.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 21 
 
 " Everything progresses according to my orders ? " 
 he demanded. 
 
 " Everything, Excellency ! The boys are being 
 loaded, and a runner has gone on to Wadihuan for 
 ponies to be prepared." 
 
 " They know that I wish to start at dawn? " 
 
 " All will be prepared. Excellency." 
 
 Von Ragastein laid his hand upon the doctor's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Come outside, Schmidt," he said. " I have some- 
 thing to tell you of my plans." 
 
 The two men seated themselves in the long, wicker 
 chairs, the doctor in an attitude of strict attention. 
 Von Ragastein turned his head and listened. From 
 Domincy's quarters came the sound of deep and reg- 
 ular breathing. 
 
 " I have formed a great plan, Schmidt," Von Ra- 
 gastein proceeded. " You know what news has come 
 to me from Berlin? " 
 
 " Your Excellency has told me little," the doctor 
 reminded him. 
 
 " The Day arrives," Von Ragastein pronounced, 
 his voice shaking with deep emotion. He paused a 
 moment in thought and continued, " the time, even 
 the month, is fixed. I am recalled from here to take 
 the place for which I was destined. You know what 
 that place is? You know why I was sent to an Eng- 
 lish public school and college? " 
 
 " I can guess." 
 
 " I am to take up my residence in England. I 
 am to have a special mission. I am to find a place 
 for myself there as an Englishman. The means are
 
 22 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 left to my ingenuity. Listen, Schmidt. A great 
 idea has come to me." 
 
 The doctor lit a cigar. 
 
 " I listen, Excellency." 
 
 Von Ragastein rose to his feet. Not content with 
 the sound of that regular breathing, he made his 
 way to the opening of the banda and gazed in at 
 Dominey's slumbering form. Then he returned. 
 
 " It is something which you do not wish the Eng- 
 lishman to hear? " the doctor asked. 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " We speak in German." 
 
 " Languages," was the cautious reply, " happen 
 to be that man's only accomplishment. He can speak 
 German as fluently as you or I. That, however, is of 
 no consequence. He sleeps and he will continue to 
 sleep. I mixed him a sleeping draught with his 
 whisky and soda." 
 
 " Ah ! " the doctor grunted. 
 
 " My principal need in England is an identity," 
 Von Ragastein pointed out. " I have made up my 
 mind. I shall take this Englishman's. I shall re- 
 turn to England as Sir Everard Dominey." 
 
 " So ! " 
 
 " There is a remarkable likeness between us, and 
 Dominey has not seen an Englishman who knows him 
 for eight or ten years. Any school or college 
 friends whom I may encounter I shall be able to 
 satisfy. I have stayed at Dominey. I know Dom- 
 iney's relatives. To-night he has babbled for hours, 
 telling me many things that it is well for me to 
 know."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 23 
 
 "What about his near relatives?" 
 
 " He has none nearer than cousins." 
 
 "No wife?" 
 
 Von Ragastein paused and turned his head. The 
 deep breathing inside the banda had certainly ceased. 
 He rose to his feet and, stealing uneasily to the 
 opening, gazed down upon his guest's outstretched 
 form. To all appearance, Dominey still slept 
 deeph'. After a moment or two's watch, Von Ra- 
 gastein returned to his place. 
 
 " Tlierein lies his tragedy," he confided, drop- 
 ping his voice a little lower. " She is insane — in- 
 sane, it seems, through a shock for which he is re- 
 sponsible. She might have been the only stumbling 
 block, and she is as though she did not exist." 
 
 " It is a great scheme," the doctor murmured en- 
 thusiastically. 
 
 " It is a wonderful one ! That great and unre- 
 vealed Power, Schmidt, which watches over our coun- 
 try and which will make her mistress of the world, 
 must have guided this man to us. My position in 
 England will be unique. As Sir Everard Dominey 
 I shall be able to penetrate into the inner circles of 
 Societ}" — perhaps, even, of political life. I shall 
 be able, if necessary, to remain in England even after 
 the storm bursts." 
 
 " Supposing," the doctor suggested, " this man 
 Dominey should return to England? " 
 
 Von Ragastein turned his head and looked to;vards 
 his questioner. 
 
 " He must not," he pronounced. 
 
 " So ! " the doc lor murmured.
 
 24 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Late in the afternoon of the following day, Dom- 
 inej, with a couple of boys for escort and his rifle 
 slung across his shoulder, rode into the bush along 
 the way he had come. The little fat doctor stood 
 and watched him, waving his hat until he was out of 
 sight. Then he called to the orderly. 
 
 " Heinrich," he said, " you are sure that the Herr 
 Englishman has the whiskj-? " 
 
 " The water bottles are filled with nothing else, 
 Herr Doctor," the man replied. 
 
 " There is no water or soda water in the pack.'' " 
 
 " Not one drop, Herr Doctor." 
 
 " How much food? " 
 
 " One day's rations." 
 
 "The beef is salt.?" 
 
 " It is very salt, Herr Doctor." 
 
 " And the compass? " 
 
 " It is ten degrees wrong." 
 
 " The boys have their orders? " 
 
 " They understand perfectly, Herr Doctor. If 
 the Englishman does not drink, they will take him 
 at midnight to where His Excellency will be encamped 
 at the bend of the Blue River." 
 
 The doctor sighed. He was not at heart an un- 
 kindl3^ man. 
 
 " I think," he murmured, " it will be better for 
 the Englishman that he drinks."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 Mr. John Lambert INIangan of Lincoln's Inn gazed 
 at the card whicli a junior clerk had just presented 
 in blank astonishment, an astonishment which be- 
 came speedily blended with dismay- 
 
 "Good God, do you see this, Harrison?" he ex- 
 claimed, passing it over to his manager, with whom 
 he had been in consultation. " Dominey — Sir 
 Everard Dominey — back here in England ! " 
 
 The head clerk glanced at the narrow piece of 
 pasteboard and sighed. 
 
 " I'm afraid you will find him rather a trouble- 
 some client, sir," he remarked. 
 
 His employer frowned. " Of course I shall," he 
 answered testily. " There isn't an extra penny to 
 be had out of the estates — you know that, Harri- 
 son. The last two quarters' allowance which we 
 sent to Africa came out of the timber. Why the 
 mischief didn't he stay where he was ! " 
 
 "What shall I tell the gentleman, sir?" the boy 
 enquired. 
 
 " Oh, show him in ! " Mr. jMangan directed ill- 
 tempcredly. " I suppose I shall have to see him 
 sooner or later. I'll finish these affidavits after 
 lunch, Harrison." 
 
 The solicitor composed his features to welcome a 
 client who, however troublccoms his affairs had be-
 
 26 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 come, still represented a family who had been val- 
 ued patrons of the firm for several generations. He 
 was prepared to greet a seedy-looking and degener- 
 ate individual, looking older than his years. In- 
 stead, he found himself extending his hand to one 
 of the best turned out and handsomest men who had 
 ever crossed the threshold of his not very inviting 
 office. For a moment he stared at his visitor, speech- 
 less. Then certain points of familiarity — the well- 
 shaped nose, the rather deep-set grey eyes — pre- 
 sented themselves. The surprise enabled him to in- 
 fuse a little real heartiness into his welcome. 
 
 " My dear Sir Everard ! " he exclaimed. " This 
 is a most unexpected pleasure — most unexpected ! 
 Such a pity, too, that we only posted a draft for 
 your allowance a few days ago. Dear me — you'll 
 forgive my saying so — how well you look ! " 
 
 Dominey smiled as he accepted an easy chair. 
 
 " Africa's a wonderful country, Mangan," he re- 
 marked, with just that faint note of patronage in 
 his tone which took his listener back to the days of 
 his present client's father. 
 
 " It — pardon my remarking it — has done won- 
 derful things for you, Sir Everard. Let me see, it 
 must be eleven years since we met." 
 
 Sir Everard tapped the toes of his carefully pol- 
 ished brown shoes with the end of his walking stick. 
 
 " I left London," he murmured reminiscently, " in 
 April, nineteen hundred and two. Yes, eleven years, 
 Mr. Mangan. It seems queer to find myself in Lon- 
 don again, as I dare say you can understand." 
 
 " Precisely," the law^yer murmured. " I was just
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 27 
 
 wondering — I think that last remittance we sent to 
 you could be stopped. I have no doubt you will 
 be glad of a little ready money," he added, with a 
 confident smile. 
 
 " Thanks, I don't think I need any just at pres- 
 ent," was the amazing answer. " We'll talk about 
 financial affairs a little later on." 
 
 Mr. Mangan metaphorically pinched himself. He 
 had known his present client even during his school 
 days, had received a great many visits from him at 
 different times, and could not remember one in which 
 the question of finance had been dismissed in so 
 casual a manner. 
 
 " I trust," he observed, chief!}' for the sake of say- 
 ing something, " that you are thinking of settling 
 down here for a time now? " 
 
 " I have finished with Africa, if that is what you 
 mean," was the somewhat grave reply. " As to set- 
 tling down here, well, that depends a little upon what 
 you have to tell me." 
 
 The lawyer nodded. 
 
 " I think," he said, " that you may make yourself 
 quite easy as regards the matter of Roger Unthank. 
 Nothing has ever been heard of him since the day 
 you left England." 
 
 " His — body has not been found? " 
 
 " Nor any trace of it." 
 
 There was a brief silence. The lawj^er looked hard 
 at Dominey, and Dominey searchingly back again at 
 the lawyer. 
 
 "And Lady Dominey?" the former asked at 
 length.
 
 28 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Her ladyship's condition is, I believe, un- 
 changed," was the somewhat guarded repl}'. 
 
 " If the circumstances are favourable," Dominey 
 continued, after another moment's pause, " I think it 
 very likely that I may decide to settle down at Dom- 
 iney Hall." 
 
 The lawyer appeared doubtful. 
 
 " I am afraid," he said, " you will be very disap- 
 pointed with the condition of the estate, Sir Everaii. 
 As I have repeatedly told you in our correspond- 
 ence, the rent roll, after deducting your settlement 
 upon Lady Dominey, has at no time reached the 
 interest on the mortgages, and we have had to make 
 up the difference and send you your allowance out 
 of the proceeds of the outlying timber." 
 
 " That is a pit}'," Dominey replied, with a frown. 
 " I ought, perhaps, to have taken you more into my 
 confidence. By the by," he added, " when — er — 
 about when did you receive my last letter? " 
 
 " Your last letter.? " Mr. Mangan repeated. " We 
 have not had the privilege of hearing from you. Sir 
 Everard, for over four years. The only intimation 
 we had that our paj^ments had reached you was the 
 exceedingly prompt debit of the South African bank." 
 
 " I have certainl}' been to blame," this unexpected 
 visitor confessed. " On the other hand, I have been 
 ver\' much absorbed. If 3'OU haven't happened to 
 hear any South African gossip latel}', Mangan, I 
 suppose it will be a surprise to you to hear that I 
 have been making a good deal of money." 
 
 "Making money?" the lawyer gasped. "You 
 making moncj'. Sir Everard? "
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 29 
 
 " I thought you'd be surprised," Dominey observed 
 coolly. " However, that's neither here nor there. 
 The business object of my visit to 3'ou this morn- 
 ing is to ask you to make arrangements as quickly 
 as possible for paying off the mortgages on the 
 Dominey estates." 
 
 Mr. Mangan was a lawyer of the new-fashioned 
 school, — Harrow and Cambridge, the Bath Club, 
 racquets and fives, rather than gold and lawn tennis. 
 Instead of saying " God bless my soul ! " he ex- 
 claimed " Great Scott ! " dropped a very modern- 
 looking eyeglass from his left eye, and leaned back 
 in his chair with his hands in his pockets. 
 
 " I have had three or four 3rears of good luck," 
 his client continued. " I have made money in gold 
 mines, in diamond mines and in land. I am afraid 
 that if I had stayed out another year, I should have 
 descended altogether to the commonplace and come 
 back a millionaire." 
 
 " My heartiest congratulations ! " Mr. Mangan 
 found breath to murmur. " You'll forgive my being 
 so astonished, but 3'ou are the first Dominey I ever 
 knew who has ever made a penny of money in any 
 sort of way, and from what I remember of you in 
 England — I'm sure you'll forgive m}^ being so frank 
 — I should never have expected 3'ou to have even 
 attempted such a thing." 
 
 Domine}^ smiled good-humouredly. 
 
 " Well," he said, " if you enquire at the United 
 Bank of Africa, 3'ou will find that I have a credit 
 balance there of something over a hundred thousand 
 pounds. Then I have also — well, let us say a trifle
 
 30 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 more, invested in first-class mines. Do me the fa- 
 vour of lunching with me, Mr. Mangan, and although 
 Africa will never be a favourite topic of conversation 
 with me, I will tell you about some of my specula- 
 tions." 
 
 The solicitor groped around for his hat. 
 
 " I will send the boy for a taxi," he faltered. 
 
 " I have a car outside," this astonishing client told 
 him. " Before we leave, could you instruct your 
 clerk to have a list of the Dominey mortgages made 
 out, with the terminable dates and redemption val- 
 ues? " 
 
 " I will leave instructions," Mr. Mangan prom- 
 ised. " I think that the total amount is under eighty 
 thousand pounds." 
 
 Dominey sauntered through the office, an object 
 of much interest to the little staff of clerks. The 
 lawyer joined him on the pavement in a few 
 minutes. 
 
 " Where shall we lunch? " Dominey asked. " I'm 
 afraid my clubs are a little out of date. I am stay- 
 ing at the Carlton." 
 
 " The Carlton grill room is quite excellent," Mr. 
 Mangan suggested. 
 
 " They are keeping me a table until half-past one," 
 Dominey replied. " We will lunch there, by all 
 means." 
 
 They drove off together, the returned traveller 
 gazing all the time out of the window into the 
 crowded streets, the lawyer a little thoughtful. 
 
 " While I think of it. Sir Everard," the latter said, 
 as they drew near their destination, " I should be
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 31 
 
 glad of a short conversation with you before you go 
 down to Doniiney." 
 
 " With regard to anything in particular? " 
 
 " With regard to Lady Dominey," the lawyer told 
 him a little gravely. 
 
 A shadow rested on his companion's face. 
 
 *' Is her ladyship very much changed.'' " 
 
 " Physically, she is in excellent health, I believe. 
 Mentally I believe that there is no change. She has 
 unfortunately the same rather violent prejudice 
 which I am afraid influenced your departure from 
 England." 
 
 " In plain words," Dominey said bitterly, " she 
 has sworn to take my life if ever I sleep under the 
 same roof." 
 
 " She will need, I am afraid, to be strictly watched," 
 the lawyer answered evasively. " Still, I think you 
 ought to be told that time does not seem to have 
 lessened her tragical antipathy." 
 
 " She regards me still as the murderer of Roger 
 Unthank? " Dominey asked, in a measured tone. 
 
 " I am afraid she does." 
 
 " And I suppose that every one else has the same 
 idea?" 
 
 " The mystery," Mr. Mangan admitted, " has never 
 been cleared up. It is well known, you see, that 3^ou 
 fought in the park and that you staggered home al- 
 most senseless. Roger Unthank has never been seen 
 from that day to this." 
 
 " If I had killed him," Dominey pointed out, " why 
 was liis body not found? " 
 
 The lawyer shook his head.
 
 32 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " There are all sorts of theories, of course," he 
 said, " but for one superstition jou may as well be 
 prepared. There is scarcely a man or a woman for 
 miles around Dominey who doesn't believe that the 
 ghost of Roger Unthank still haunts the Black Wood 
 near where you fought." 
 
 " Let us be quite clear about this," Dominey in- 
 sisted. " If the body should ever be found, am I 
 liable, after all these years, to be indicted for man- 
 slaughter .? " 
 
 " I think you may make your mind quite at ease," 
 the lawyer assured him. " In the first place, I don't 
 think you would ever be indicted." 
 
 " And in the second.'' " 
 
 " There isn't a human being in that part of Nor- 
 folk would ever believe that the body of man or beast, 
 left within the shadow of the Black Wood, would 
 ever be seen or heard of again I "
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Mr. Mangan, on their way into the grill room, 
 loitered for a few minutes in the small reception 
 room, chatting with some acquaintances, whilst his 
 host, having spoken to the maitre dliotel and ordered 
 a cocktail from a passing waiter, stood with his hands 
 behind his back, watching the inflow of men and 
 women with all that interest which one might be sup- 
 posed to feel in one's fellows after a prolonged ab- 
 sence. He had moved a little on one side to allow 
 a party of young people to make their way through 
 the crowded chamber, when he was conscious of a 
 woman standing alone on the topmost of the three 
 thickly carpeted stairs. Their eyes met, and hers, 
 which had been wandering around the room as though 
 in search of some acquaintance, seemed instantly and 
 fervently held. To the few loungers about the room, 
 ignorant of any special significance in that studied 
 contemplation of the man on the part of the woman, 
 their two personalities presented an agreeable, al- 
 most a fascinating study. Dominey was six feet 
 two in height and had to its fullest extent the natural 
 distinction of his class, together with the half mili- 
 tary, half athletic bearing which seemed to have been 
 so marvellously restored to him. His complexion 
 was no more than becomingly tanned ; his slight
 
 34 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 moustache, trimmed very close to the upper lip, was 
 of the same ruddy brown shade as his sleekly brushed 
 hair. The woman, who had commenced now to move 
 slowly towards him, save that her cheeks, at that 
 moment, at any rate, were almost unnaturally pale, 
 was of the same colouring. Her red-gold hair 
 gleamed beneath her black hat. She was tall, a 
 Grecian type of figure, large without being coarse, 
 majestic though still young. She carried a little 
 dog under one arm and a plain black silk bag, on 
 which was a coronet in platinum and diamonds, in 
 the other hand. The major-domo who presided over 
 the room, watching her approach, bowed with more 
 than his usual urbanity. Her eyes, however, were 
 still fixed upon the person who had engaged so large 
 a share of her attention. She came towards him, 
 her lips a little parted. 
 
 "Leopold!" she faltered. "The Holy Saints, 
 why did you not let me know ! " 
 
 Dominey bowed very slightly. His words seemed 
 to have a cut and dried flavour. 
 
 " I am so sorry," he replied, " but I fear that you 
 make a mistake. My name is not Leopold." 
 
 She stood quite still, looking at him with the air 
 of not having heard a word of his polite disclaimer. 
 
 " In London, of all places," she murmured. " Tell 
 me, what does it mean.'' " 
 
 " I can only repeat, madam," he said, " that to my 
 very great regret I have not the honour of your 
 acquaintance." 
 
 She was puzzled, but absolutely unconvinced. 
 
 " You mean to deny that you are Leopold von Ra-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 35 
 
 gastein?" she asked incredulously. "You do not 
 know me? " 
 
 " Madam," he answered, " it is not my great pleas- 
 ure. My name is Dominey — Everard Dominey." 
 
 She seemed for a moment to be struggling with 
 some embarrassment which approached emotion. 
 Then she laid her fingers upon his sleeve and drew 
 him to a more retired corner of the little apart- 
 ment. 
 
 " Leopold," she whispered, " nothing can make it 
 wrong or indiscreet for you to visit me. My address 
 is 17, Belgrave Square. I desire to see you to-night 
 at seven o'clock." 
 
 " But, my dear lady," Dominey began — 
 
 Her eyes suddenly glowed with a new light. 
 
 " I will not be trifled with," she insisted. " If you 
 wish to succeed in whatever scheme you have on hand, 
 3'ou must not make an enemy of me. I shall expect 
 you at seven o'clock." 
 
 She passed away from him into the restaurant. 
 Mr. Mangan, now freed from his friends, rejoined 
 his host, and the two men took their places at the 
 side table to which they were ushered with many 
 signs of attention. 
 
 " Wasn't that the Princess Eiderstrom with whom 
 you were talking.'' " the solicitor asked curiously. 
 
 " A lady addressed me by mistake," Dominey ex- 
 plained. " She mistook me, curiously enough, for a 
 man who used to be called my double at Oxford. 
 Sigismund Devinter he was then, although I think he 
 came into a title later on." 
 
 " The Princess is quite a famous personage," Mr.
 
 36 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Mangan remarked, " one of the richest widows in 
 Europe. Her husband was killed in a duel some six 
 or seven years ago." 
 
 Dominey ordered the luncheon with care, slipping 
 into a word or two of German once to assist the 
 waiter, who spoke English with difficulty. His com- 
 panion smiled. 
 
 " I see that you have not forgotten your languages 
 out there in the Avilds." 
 
 " I had no chance to," Dominey answered. " I 
 spent five 3'ears on the borders of German East 
 Africa, and I traded with some of the fellows there 
 regularly." 
 
 " By the by," Mr. Mangan enquired, " what sort of 
 terms are we on with the Germans out there? " 
 
 " Excellent, I should think," was the careless reply. 
 " I never had any trouble." 
 
 " Of course," the lawyer continued, " this will all 
 be new to you, but during the last few years Eng- 
 lishmen have become divided into two classes — the 
 people who believe that the Germans wish to go to 
 war and crush us, and those who don't." 
 
 " Then since my return the number of the ' don'ts ' 
 has been increased by one." 
 
 " I am amongst the doubtfuls myself," Mr. Mangan 
 remarked. " All the same, I can't quite see what 
 Germany wants with such an immense army, and why 
 she is continuall}^ adding to her fleet." 
 
 Dominey paused for a moment to discuss the mat- 
 ter of a sauce with the head waiter. He returned to 
 the subject a few minutes later on, however. 
 
 " Of course," he pointed out, " my opinions can
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 37 
 
 only come from a study of the newspapers and from 
 conver-sations with such Germans as I have met out 
 in Africa, but so far as her army is concerned, I 
 should have said that Russia and France were re- 
 sponsible for that, and the more powerful it is, the 
 less chance of any European conflagration. Russia 
 might at any time come to the conclusion that a war 
 is her only salvation against a revolution, and you 
 know the feeling in France about Alsace-Lorraine 
 as well as I do. The Germans themselves say that 
 there is more interest in military matters and more 
 progress being made in Russia to-day than ever be- 
 fore." 
 
 " I have no doubt that you are right," agreed Mr. 
 Mangan. " It is a matter which is being a great 
 deal discussed just now, however. Let us speak of 
 your personal plans. What do you intend to do for 
 the next few weeks, say? Have you been to see any 
 of your relatives yet.'* " 
 
 " Not one," Dominey replied. " I am afraid that 
 I am not altogether keen about making advances." 
 
 Mr. Mangan coughed. " You must remember that 
 during the period of your last residence in London," 
 he said, " you were in a state of chronic impecuni- 
 osity. No doubt that rather affected the attitude 
 of some of those who would otherwise have been more 
 friendly." 
 
 " I should be perfectly content never to see one 
 of them again," declared Dominey, with perfect truth. 
 
 " That, of course, is impossible," the lawyer pro- 
 tested. " You must go and see the Duchess, at any 
 rate. She was always your champion."
 
 38 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " The Duchess was always very kind to me," Dom- 
 iney admitted doubtfully, " but I am afraid she was 
 rather fed up before I left England." 
 
 Mr. Mangan smiled. He was enjoying- a very ex- 
 cellent lunch, which it seemed hard to believe was 
 ordered by a man just home from the wilds of Africa, 
 and he thoroughly enjoyed talking about duchesses. 
 
 " Her Grace," he began — 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 The lawyer had paused, with his eyes glued upon 
 the couple at a neighbouring table. He leaned across 
 towards his companion. 
 
 "The Duchess herself. Sir Everard, just behind 
 you, with Lord St. Omar." 
 
 " This place must certainly' be the rendezvous of 
 all the world," Dominey declared, as he held out his 
 hand to a man who had approached their table. 
 " Seaman, my friend, welcome ! Let me introduce 
 3'ou to m}' friend and legal adviser, Mr. Mangan — 
 Mr. Seaman." 
 
 Mr. Seaman was a short, fat man, immaculately 
 dressed in most conventional morning attire. He 
 was almost bald, except for a little tuft on either 
 side, and a few long, fair hairs carefully brushed 
 back over a shining scalp. His face was extraordi- 
 narily round except towards his chin, where it came 
 to a point ; his eyes bright and keen, his mouth the 
 mouth of a professional humourist. He shook hands 
 with the lawyer with an empressement which was 
 scarcely English-. 
 
 " Within the space of half an hour," Dominey 
 continued, " I find a princess who desires to claim
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 39 
 
 my acquaintance ; a cousin," he dropped his voice a 
 little, " who lunches only a few tables away, and the 
 man of whom I have seen most during the last ten 
 years amidst scenes a little different from these, eh, 
 Seaman? " 
 
 Seaman accepted the chair which the waiter had 
 brought and sat down. The lawyer was immediately 
 interested. 
 
 " Do I understand, then," he asked, addressing the 
 newcomer, " that you knew Sir Everard in Africa? " 
 
 Seaman beamed. " Knew him? " he repeated, and 
 with the first words of his speech the fact of his for- 
 eign nationality was established. " There was no one 
 of whom I knew so much. We did business together 
 — a great deal of business — and when we were not 
 partners. Sir Everard generally got the best of it." 
 
 Domine^' laughed. " Luck generally comes to a 
 man either early or late in life. My luck came late. 
 I think, Seaman, that you must have been my mascot. 
 Nothing went wrong with me during the years that we 
 did business together." 
 
 Seaman was a little excited. He brushed upright 
 with the palm of his hand one of those little tufts of 
 hair left on the side of his head, and he laid his plump 
 fingers upon the lawyer's shoulder. 
 
 " Mr. Mangan," he said, " you listen to me. I sell 
 this man the controlling interests in a mine, shares 
 which I have held for four and a half years and never 
 drew a penny dividend. I sell them to him, I say, at 
 par. Well, I need the money and it seems to me that 
 I had given the shares a fair chance. Within five 
 weeks — five weeks, sir," he repeated, struggling to
 
 .p THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 attune his voice to his civihsed surroundings, " those 
 shares had gone from par to fourteen and a half. 
 To-day they stand at twenty. He gave me five thou- 
 sand pounds for those shares. To-day he could walk 
 into your stock market and sell them for one hundred 
 thousand. That is the way money is made in Africa, 
 Mr. Mangan, where innocents like me are to be found 
 every day." 
 
 Dominey poured out a glass of wine and passed it 
 to their visitor. 
 
 " Come," he said, " we all have our ups and downs. 
 Africa owes you nothing, Seaman." 
 
 " I have done well in my small way," Seaman ad- 
 mitted, fingering the stem of his wineglass, " but 
 where I have had to plod, Sir Everard here has stood 
 and commanded fate to pour her treasures into his 
 lap." 
 
 The lawyer was listening with a curious interest 
 and pleasure to this half bantering conversation. He 
 found an opportunity now to intervene. 
 
 " So you two were really friends in Africa? " he 
 remarked, with a queer and almost inexplicable sense 
 of relief. 
 
 " If Sir Everard permits our association to be so 
 called," Seaman replied. " We have done business 
 together in the great cities — in Johannesburg and 
 Pretoria, in Kimberley and Cape Town — and we 
 have prospected together in the wild places. We 
 have trekked the veldt and been lost to the world for 
 many months at a time. We have seen the real won- 
 ders of Africa together, as well as her tawdry civ- 
 ilisation."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 41 
 
 " And you, too," Mr. Mangan asked, " have you 
 retired? " 
 
 Seaman's smile was almost beatific. 
 
 " The same deal," he said, " which brought Sir 
 Everard's fortune to wonderful figures brought me 
 that modest sum which I had sworn to reach before I 
 I'eturned to England. It is true. I have retired 
 from money-making. It is now that I take up again 
 my real life's work." 
 
 " If you are going to talk about your hobby," 
 Dominey observed, " you had better order them to 
 serve your lunch here." 
 
 " I had finished my lunch before you came in," his 
 friend replied. " I drink another glass of wine with 
 you, perhaps. Afterwards a liqueur — who can say? 
 In this climate one is favoured, one can drink freely. 
 Sir Everard and I, Mr. Mangan, have been in places 
 where thirst is a thing to be struggled against, where 
 for months a little weak brandy and 'water was our 
 chief dissipation." 
 
 " Tell us about this hobby? " the lawyer enquired. 
 
 Dominey intervened promptly. " I protest. If he 
 begins to talk of that, he'll be here all the afternoon." 
 
 Seaman held out his hands and rolled his head from 
 side to side. 
 
 "But I am not so unreasonable," he objected. 
 "Just one word — so? Very well, then," he pro- 
 ceeded quickly, with the air of one fearing Interrup- 
 tion. " This must be clear to you, Mr. Mangan. I 
 am a German by birth, naturalised in England for 
 the sake of m}^ business, loving Germany, fateful to 
 England. One third of my life I hare lived in Berfe,
 
 42 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 one third at Forest Hill here in London, and in the 
 city, one third in Africa. I have watched the growth 
 of commercial rivalries and jealousies between the 
 two nations. There is no need for them. They 
 might lead to worse things. I would brush them all 
 away. My aim is to encourage a league for the pro- 
 motion of more cordial social and business relations 
 between the people of Great Britain and the people of 
 the German Empire. There ! Have I wasted mucli 
 of your time? Can I not speak of my hobby without 
 a flood of words ? " 
 
 " Conciseness itself," Mangan admitted, " and I 
 compliment you most heartily upon your scheme. If 
 you can get the right people into it, it should prove a 
 most valuable society." 
 
 " In Germany I have the right people. All Ger- 
 mans who live for their country and feel for their 
 country loathe the thought of war. We want peace, 
 we want friends, and, to speak as man to man," he 
 concluded, tapping the lawyer upon the coat sleeve, 
 " England is our best customer." 
 
 " I wish one could believe," the latter remarked, 
 " that yours was the popular voice in your country." 
 
 Seaman rose reluctantly to his feet. 
 
 " At half-past two," he announced, glancing at his 
 watch, " I have an appointment with a woollen manu- 
 facturer from Bradford. I hope to get him to join 
 my council." 
 
 He bowed ceremoniously to the lawyer, nodded to 
 Dominey with the familiarity of an old friend, and 
 made his bustling, good-humoured way out of the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 43 
 
 " A sound business man, I should think," was the 
 former's comment. " I wish him luck with his 
 League. You yourself. Sir Everard, will need to 
 develop some new interests. Why not politics? " 
 
 " I really expect to find life a little difficult at first," 
 admitted Dorainey, with a shrug of his shoulders. 
 " I have lost many of the tastes of my youth, and I 
 am ver}' much afraid that my friends over here will 
 call me colonial. I can't fancy myself doing nothing 
 down in Norfolk all the rest of my days. Perhaps I 
 shall go into Parliament." 
 
 " You must forgive my saving," his companion de- 
 clared impulsiA'ely, " that I never knew ten years 
 make such a difference in a man in my life." 
 
 " The colonies," Dominey pronounced, " are a kill 
 or cure sort of business. You either take your drub- 
 bing and come out a stronger man, or you go under. 
 I had the very narrowest escape from going under 
 myself, but I just pulled together in time. To-day I 
 wouldn't have been without m}' hard times for any- 
 thing in the world." 
 
 " If 3'ou will permit me," Mr. Mangan said, with 
 an inherited pomposity, " on this our first meeting 
 under the new conditions, I should like to offer you 
 my hearty congratulations, not onl}^ upon what you 
 have accomplished but upon what 3'ou have become." 
 
 "And also, I hope," Dominey rejoined, smiling a 
 little seriously and with a curious glint in his eyes, 
 " upon what I may yet accomplish." 
 
 The Duchess and her companion had risen to their 
 fe£t, and the foraier, on her way out, recognising her 
 solicitor, paused graciously.
 
 44 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Mangan? " she said. "I 
 hope you are looking after those troublesome tenants 
 of mine in Leicestershire? " 
 
 " We shall make our report in due course, Duch- 
 ess," Mangan assured her. " Will yon permit me," 
 he added, " to bring back to your memory a relative 
 who has just returned from abroad — Sir Everard 
 Dominey.'* " 
 
 Dominey had risen to his feet a moment previously 
 and now extended his hand. The Duchess, who was a 
 tall, graceful woman, with masses of fair hair only 
 faintly interspersed with grey, very fine brown eyes, 
 the complexion of a girl, and, to quote her own con- 
 fession, the manners of a kitchen maid, stared at him 
 for a moment without any response. 
 
 " Sir Everard Dominey.'' " she repeated. " Ever- 
 ard? Ridiculous ! " 
 
 Dominey's extended hand was at once withdrawn, 
 and the tentative smile . faded from his lips. The 
 lawyer plunged into the breach. 
 
 " I can assure your Grace," he insisted earnestly, 
 " that there is no doubt whatever about Sir Everard's 
 identity. He only returned from Africa during the 
 last few days." 
 
 The Duchess's incredulity remained, wholly good- 
 natured but ministered to by her natural obstinacy. 
 
 " I simply cannot bring myself to believe it," she 
 declared. " Come, I'll challenge you. When did 
 we meet last ? " 
 
 " At Worcester House," was the prompt reply. 
 " I came to say good-bye to you." 
 
 The Duchess was a little staggered. Her eyes
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 45 
 
 softened, a faint smile played at the corners of her 
 lips. She was suddenly a very attractive looking 
 woman. 
 
 " You came to say good-bye," she repeated, 
 "and.?" 
 
 "I am to take that as a challenge.''" Dominey 
 asked, standing very upright and looking her in the 
 eyes. 
 
 " As you will." 
 
 " You were a little kinder to me," he continued, 
 " than you are to-day. You gave me — this," he 
 added, drawing a small picture from his pocketbook, 
 " and you permitted — •" 
 
 " For heaven's sake, put that thing away," she 
 cried, " and don't say another word ! There's my 
 grown-up nephew, St. Omar, paying his bill almost 
 within earshot. Come and see me at half-past three 
 this afternoon, and don't be a minute late. And, St. 
 Omar," she went on, turning to the young man who 
 stood now by her side, " this is a connection of yours 
 — Sir Everard Dominey. He is a terrible person, 
 but do shake hands with him and come along. I am 
 half an hour late for my dressmaker already." 
 
 Lord St. Omar chuckled vaguely, then shook hands 
 with his new-found relative, nodded affably to the 
 lawyer and followed his aunt out of the room. Man- 
 gan's expression was beatific. 
 
 " Sir Everard," he exclaimed, " God bless you ! If 
 ever a woman got what she deserved! I've seen a 
 duchess blush — first time in my life ! "
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Worcester House was one of those serai-palatial 
 residences set down apparently for no reason what- 
 ever in the middle of Regent's Park. It had been 
 acquired by a former duke at the instigation of the 
 Regent, who was his intimate friend, and retained by 
 later generations in mute protest against the disfigur- 
 ing edifices which had made a millionaire's highway of 
 Park Lane. Dominey, who was first scrutinised by 
 an individual in bufF waistcoat and silk hat at the 
 porter's lodge, was interviewed by a major-domo in 
 the great stone hall, conducted through an extraor- 
 dinarily Victorian drawing-room by another myrmi- 
 don in a buff waistcoat, and finally ushered into a 
 tiny little boudoir leading out of a larger apartment 
 and terminating in a conservatory filled with sweet- 
 smelling exotics. The Duchess, who was reclining in 
 an easy-chair, held out her hand, which her visitor 
 raised to his lips. She motioned him to a seat by her 
 side and once more scrutinised him with unabashed 
 intentness. 
 
 " There's something wrong about you, you know," 
 she declared. 
 
 "That seems very unfortunate," he rejoined, 
 " when I return to find you wholly unchanged." 
 
 " Not bad," she remarked critically. " All the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 47 
 
 same, I have changed. I am not in the least in love 
 with you an}^ longer." 
 
 " It was the fear of tliat change in you," he sighed, 
 " which kept me for so long in the furthest corners of 
 the world." 
 
 She looked at him with a severity which was obvi- 
 ously assumed. 
 
 " Look here," she said, " it is better for us to have 
 a perfectly clear understanding upon one point. I 
 know the exact position of your affairs, and I know, 
 too, that the two hundred a year which your lawyer 
 has been sending out to you came partly out of a 
 few old trees and partly out of his own pocket. How 
 you are going to live over here I cannot imagine, but 
 it isn't the least use expecting Henry to do a thing 
 for 3^ou. The poor man has scarcely enough pocket 
 money to pay his travelling expenses when he goes 
 lecturing." 
 
 " Lecturing? " Dominey repeated. " What's hap- 
 pened to poor Henry? " 
 
 " M}'^ husband is an exceedingly conscientious 
 man," was the dignified reply. " He goes from town 
 to town with Lord Roberts and a secretary, lecturing 
 on national defence." 
 
 " Dear Henry was always a little cranky, wasn't 
 he? " Dominey observed. " Let me put your mind at 
 rest on that other matter, though, Caroline. I can 
 assure you that I have come back to England not to 
 borrow money but to spend it." 
 
 His cousin shook her head mournfully. " And a 
 few minutes ago I was nearly observing that you had 
 lost your sense of humour ! "
 
 48 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I am in earnest," he persisted. " Africa has 
 turned out to be my Eldorado. Quite unexpectedly, 
 I must admit, I came in for a considerable sum of 
 money towards the end of my stay there. I am pay- 
 ing off the mortgages at Dominey at once, and I 
 want Henry to jot down on paper at once those few 
 amounts he was good enough to lend me in the old 
 days." 
 
 Caroline, Duchess of Worcester, sat perfectly still 
 for a moment with her mouth open, a condition which 
 was entirely natural but unbecoming. 
 
 " And 3'ou mean to tell me that you really are 
 Everard Dominey? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " The weight of evidence is rather that way," he 
 murmured. 
 
 He moved his chair deliberately a little nearer, took 
 her hand and raised it to his lips. Her face was 
 perilously near to his. She drew a little back — not 
 too abruptly. 
 
 " My dear Everard," she whispered, " Henry is in 
 the house ! Besides — Yes, I suppose you must be 
 Everard. Just now there was something in your 
 eyes exactly like his. But you are so stiff. Have 
 you been drilling out there or anything.^ " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " One spends half one's time in the saddle." 
 
 " And 3"ou are really well off? " she asked again 
 wonderingly. 
 
 " If I had stayed there another 3'ear," he replied, 
 " and been able to marry a Dutch Jewess, I should 
 have qualified for Park Lane." 
 
 She sighed.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 49 
 
 " It's too wonderful. Henry will love having his 
 money back." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 She looked positively distressed. 
 
 " You've lost all your manners," she complained. 
 " You make love like a garden rake. You should 
 have leaned towards me with a quiver in your voice 
 Avhen you said those last two "words, and instead of 
 that you look as thougli you were sitting at attention, 
 with a positive glint of steel in your e3^es." 
 
 " One sees a woman once in a blue moon out there," 
 he pleaded. 
 
 She shook her head. " You've changed. It was a 
 sixth sense with you to make love in exactly the right 
 tone, to say exactly' the right thing in the right 
 manner." 
 
 " I shall pick it up," he declared hopefully, " with 
 a little assistance." 
 
 She made a little grimace. 
 
 " You won't want an old woman like me to assist 
 you, Everard. You'll have the town at 3'our feet. 
 You'll be able to frivol with musical comedy, flirt 
 with our married beauties, or — I'm sorry, Everard. 
 I forgot." 
 
 " You forgot what.'' " he asked steadfastly. 
 
 " I forgot the tragedy which finally drove 3'ou 
 abroad. I forgot your marriage. Is there any 
 change in your wife ? " 
 
 " Not much, I am afraid." 
 
 " And ]Mr. Mangan — he thinks that j^ou are safe 
 over here? " 
 
 " Perfectly."
 
 50 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 She looked at him earnestly. Perhaps she had 
 never admitted, even to herself, how fond she had been 
 of this scapegrace cousin. 
 
 " You'll find that no one will have a word to say 
 against you," she told him, " now that you are 
 wealthy and regenerate. They'll forget everything 
 you want them to. When Avill you come and dine 
 here and meet all your relatives? " 
 
 " Whenever you are kind enough to ask me," he 
 answered. " I thought of going down to Dominey 
 to-morrow." 
 
 She looked at him with a new thing in her eyes — 
 something of fear, something, too, of admiration. 
 
 " But — your wife? " 
 
 " She is there, I believe," he said. " I cannot help 
 . t. I have been an exile from my home long enough." 
 
 " Don't go," she begged suddenly. " Why not be 
 brave and have her removed. I know how tender- 
 hearted you are, but you have your future and 3^our 
 career to consider. For her sake, too, you ought 
 not to give her the opportunity — " 
 
 Dominey could never make up his mind whether 
 the interruption which came at that moment was 
 welcome or otherwise. Caroline suddenly broke off 
 in her speech and glanced warningly towards the 
 larger room. A tall, grey-haired man, dressed in 
 old-fashioned clothes and wearing a pince-nez, had 
 lifted the curtains. He addressed the Duchess in a 
 thin, reedy voice. 
 
 " My dear Caroline," he began, — " ah, you must 
 forgive me. I did not know tliat you were engaged. 
 We will not stay, but I should like to present to you
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 51 
 
 a young friend of mine who is going to help me at 
 the meeting this evening." 
 
 " Do bring him in," his wife replied, her voice 
 once more attuned to its usual drawl. " And I have 
 a surprise for you too, Henry — a very great sur- 
 prise, I think you will find it ! " 
 
 Dominey rose to his feet — a tall, commanding 
 figure — and stood waiting the approach of the 
 newcomer. The Duke advanced, looking at him en- 
 quiringly. A young man, very obviously a soldier 
 in mufti, was hovering in the background. 
 
 " I must plead guilty to the surprise," the Duke 
 confessed courteously. " There is something ex- 
 ceedingly familiar about your face, sir, but I cannot 
 remember having had the privilege of meeting you." 
 
 " You see," Caroline observed, " I am not the only 
 one, Everard, who did not accept you upon a glance. 
 This is Everard Dominey, Henry, returned from 
 foreign exile and regenerated in every sense of the 
 word." 
 
 " How do you do? " Dominey said, holding out his 
 hand. " I seem to be rather a surprise to every 
 one, but I hope you haven't quite forgotten me." 
 
 " God bless my soul ! " the Duke exclaimed. " You 
 don't mean to say that you're reall}' Everard Dom- 
 iney? " 
 
 " I am he, be3'ond a doubt," was the calm assur- 
 ance. 
 
 " Most amazing ! " the Duke declared, as he shook 
 hands. " Most amazing! I never saw such a change 
 in my life. Yes, yes, I see — same complexion, of 
 course — nose and eyes — yes, yes ! But you seem
 
 52 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 taller, and you carry yourself like a soldier. Dear, 
 dear me ! Africa has done wonderfully by you. 
 Delighted, my dear Everard ! Delighted ! " 
 
 " You'll be more delighted still when you hear the 
 rest of the news," his wife remarked drily. " In 
 the meantime, do present your friend." 
 
 " Precisely so," the Duke acquiesced, turning to 
 the young man in the background. " Most sorry, 
 my dear Captain Bartram. The unexpected return 
 of a connection of my wife must be my apology for 
 this lapse of manners. Let me present you to the 
 Duchess. Captain Bartram is just back from Ger- 
 many, my dear, and is an enthusiastic supporter of 
 our cause. — Sir Everard Dominey." 
 
 Caroline shook hands kindly with her husband's 
 protege, and Dominey exchanged a solemn hand- 
 shake with him. 
 
 " You, too, are one of those, then, Captain Bar- 
 tram, who are convinced that Germany has evil de- 
 signs upon us? " the former said, smiling. 
 
 " I have just returned from Germany after twelve 
 months' stay there," the young soldier replied. " I 
 went with an open mind. I have come back con- 
 vinced that we shall be at war with Germany within 
 a couple of years." 
 
 The Duke nodded vigorously. 
 
 " Our young friend is right," he declared. 
 " Three times a week for many months I have been 
 drumming the fact into the handful of wooden- 
 headed Englishmen who have deigned to come to our 
 meetings. I have made myself a nuisance to the 
 House of Lords and the Press. It is a terrible thing
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 53 
 
 to realise how hard it is to make an Englishman 
 reflect, so long as he is making money and having 
 a good time. — You are just back from Africa, 
 Everard? " 
 
 " Within a week, sir." 
 
 " Did you see anj-thing of the Germans out there .f* 
 Were you anywhere near their Colony.'* " 
 
 " I have been in touch with them for some 3^ears," 
 Dominey replied. 
 
 " Most interesting ! " his questioner exclaimed. 
 " You may be of service to us, Everard. You may, 
 indeed ! Now tell me, isn't it true that they have 
 secret agents out there, trying to provoke unsettle- 
 ment and disquiet amongst the Boers.'* Isn't it true 
 that they apprehend a war with England before very 
 long and are determined to stir up the Colony 
 against us.'' " 
 
 " I am very sorr}'," Domine}^ replied, " but I am 
 not a politician in any shape or form. All the Ger- 
 mans whom I have met out there seem a most peace- 
 able race of men, and there doesn't seem to be the 
 slightest discontent amongst the Boers or any one 
 else." 
 
 The Duke's face fell. " This is very surprising." 
 
 " The only people who seem to have any cause for 
 discontent," Dominey continued, " are the English 
 settlers. I didn't commence to do any good myself 
 there till a few years ago, but I have heard some 
 queer stories about the way our own people were 
 treated after the war." 
 
 " What you say about South Africa, Sir Everard," 
 the young soldier remarked, " is naturally interest-
 
 54 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 ing, but I am bound to say that it is in direct oppo- 
 sition to all I have heard." 
 
 " And I," the Duke echoed fervently. 
 
 " I have lived there for the last eleven years," 
 Dominey continued, " and although I spent the earlier 
 part of that time trekking after big game, lately I 
 am bound to confess that every thought and energy 
 I possess have been centered upon money-making. 
 For that reason, perhaps, my observations may have 
 been at fault. I shall claim the privilege of coming 
 to one of your first meetings, Duke, and of trying 
 to understand this question." 
 
 His august connection blinked at him a little curi- 
 ously for a moment behind his glasses. 
 
 " My dear Everard," he said, " forgive my re- 
 marking it, but I find you more changed than I could 
 have believed possible." 
 
 " Everard is changed in more ways than one," 
 his wife observed, with faint irony. 
 
 Dominey, who had risen to leave, bent over her 
 hand. 
 
 "What about my dinner party, sir.''" she added. 
 
 " As soon as I return from Norfolk," he replied. 
 
 " Dominey Hall will really find you ? " she asked 
 a little curiously. 
 
 " Most certainly ! " 
 
 There was again that little flutter of fear in her 
 eyes, followed by a momentary flash of admiration. 
 Dominey shook hands gravely with his host and 
 nodded to Bartram. The servant whom the Duchess 
 had summoned stood holding the curtains on one 
 side.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 55 
 
 " I shall hope to see you again shortly, Duke," 
 Dominey said, as he completed his leave-taking. 
 " There is a little matter of business to be adjusted 
 between us. You will probably hear from Mr. Alan- 
 gan in a day or two." 
 
 The Duke gazed after the retreating figure of this 
 very amazing visitor. When the curtains had fallen 
 he turned to his wife. 
 
 " A little matter of business," he repeated. " I 
 hope you have explained to Everard, my dear, that 
 although, of course, we are very glad to see him back 
 again, it is absolutely hopeless for him to look to 
 me for any financial assistance at the present mo- 
 ment." 
 
 Caroline smiled, 
 
 " Everard was alluding to the money he already 
 owes you," she explained. " He intends to repay it 
 at once. He is also paying off the Dominey mort- 
 gages. He has apparently made a fortune in 
 Africa." 
 
 The Duke collapsed into an easy-chair. 
 
 " Everard pay his debts? " he exclaimed. " Ever- 
 ard Dominey pay off the mortgages.'' " 
 
 " That is what I understand," his wife acquiesced. 
 
 The Duke clutched at the last refuge of a weak but 
 obstinate man. His mouth came together like a rat- 
 trap. 
 
 " There's something wrong about it somewhere," 
 he declared.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Dominey spent a very impatient hour that evening 
 in his sitting-room at the Carlton, waiting for Sea- 
 man. It was not until nearly seven that the latter 
 appeared. 
 
 " Are you aware," Dominey asked him, " that I 
 am expected to call upon the Princess Eiderstrom 
 at seven o'clock? " 
 
 " I have your word for it," Seaman replied, " but 
 I see no traged}' in the situation. The Princess is 
 a woman of sense and a woman of political insight. 
 While I cannot recommend you to take her entirely 
 into your confidence, I still think that a middle course 
 can be judiciousU^ pursued." 
 
 " Rubbish ! " Dominey exclaimed. " As Leopold 
 von Ragastein, the Princess has indisputable claims 
 upon me and my liberty, claims which would alto- 
 gether interfere with the career of Everard Dom- 
 iney." 
 
 With methodical neatness. Seaman laid his hat, 
 gloves and walking stick upon the sideboard. He 
 then looked into the connecting bedroom, closed and 
 fastened the door and extended himself in an eas}^- 
 chair. 
 
 " Sit opposite to me, my friend," he said. " We 
 will talk together."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 57 
 
 Dominey obej^cd a little sullenly. His companion, 
 however, ignored his demeanour. 
 
 " Now, my friend," he said, beating upon the palm 
 of one hand with the forefinger of his other, " I am 
 a man of commerce and I do things in a business 
 way. Let us take stock of our position. Three 
 months ago last week, we met by appointment at a 
 certain hotel in Cape Town." 
 
 " Only three months," Domine}^ muttered. 
 
 " We were unknown to one another," Seaman con- 
 tinued. " I had only heard of the Baron von Ra- 
 gastein as a devoted German citizen and patriot, en- 
 gaged in an important enterprise in East Africa 
 by special intercession of the Kaiser, on account of 
 a certain unfortunate happening in Hungary." 
 
 " I killed a man in a duel," Dominey said slowly, 
 with his eyes fixed upon his companion's. " It was 
 not an unforgivable act." 
 
 " There are duels and duels. A fight between two 
 young men, in defence of the honour of or to gain 
 the favour of a young lady in their own station of 
 life, has never been against the conventions of the 
 Court. On the other hand, to become the lover of 
 the wife of one of the greatest nobles in Hungary, 
 and to secure possession by killing the husband in 
 the duel which his honour makes a necessity is looked 
 upon very diflTerently." 
 
 " I had no wish to kill the Prince," Dominey pro- 
 tested, " nor was it at my desire that we met at all. 
 The Prince fought like a madman and slipped, after 
 a wild lunge, on to the point of my stationary sword." 
 
 " Let that pass," Seaman said. " I am not of
 
 58 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 your order and I probably do not understand the 
 etiquette of these matters. I simply look upon you 
 as a culprit in the eyes of our master, and I feel 
 that he has a right to demand from you much in 
 the way of personal sacrifice." 
 
 " Perhaps you will tell me," Dominey demanded, 
 " what more he would have ? I have spent weary 
 years in a godless and fever-ridden country, rais- 
 ing up for our arms a great troop of natives. I 
 have undertaken other political commissions in the 
 Colony which may bear fruit. I am to take up the 
 work for which I was originally intended, for which 
 I was given an English education. I am to repair 
 to England, and, under such identity as I might 
 assume after consultation with 3^ou at Cape Town, I 
 am to render myself so far as possible a persona grata 
 in that country. I do not wait for our meeting. I 
 see a great chance and I make use of it. I trans- 
 form myself into an English country gentleman, and 
 I think you will admit that I have done so with great 
 success." 
 
 " All that you say is granted," Seaman agreed. 
 " You met me at Cape Town in your new identity, 
 and you certainly seemed to wear it wonderfull3^ 
 You have made it uncommonly expensive, but we do 
 not grudge money." 
 
 " I could not return home to a poverty-stricken 
 domain," Dominey pointed out. " I should have held 
 no place whatever in English social life, and I should 
 have received no welcome from those with whom I 
 imagine you desire me to stand well." 
 
 " Again I make no complaints," Seaman declared.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 59 
 
 " There is no bottom to our purse, nor any stint. 
 Neither must there be any stint to our loyalty," he 
 added gravely. 
 
 " In this instance," Dominey protested, " it is not 
 a matter of loyalty. Everard Dominey cannot throw 
 himself at the feet of the Princess Eiderstrom, well- 
 known to be one of the most passionate women in 
 Europe, whilst her love affair with Leopold von 
 Raga stein is still remembered. Remember that the 
 question of our identities might crop up any day. 
 We were friends over here in England, at school and 
 at college, and there are many who will still remem- 
 ber the likeness between us. Perfectly though I may 
 play my part, here and there there may be doubts. 
 These will be doubts no longer if I am to be dragged 
 at the chariot wheels of the Princess." 
 
 Seaman was silent for a moment. 
 
 " There is reason in what you saj^," he admitted 
 presently. " It is for a few months only. What is 
 your proposition? " 
 
 " That you see the Princess in my place at once," 
 Dominey suggested eagerly. " Point out to her that 
 for the present, for political reasons, I am and must 
 remain Everard Dominey, to her as to the rest of the 
 world. Let her be content Avith such measure of 
 friendship and admiration as Sir Everard Dominey 
 might reasonably offer to a beautiful woman whom 
 he met to-day for the first time, and I am entirely 
 and with all my heart at her service. But let her 
 remember that even between us two, in the solitude 
 of her room as in the drawing-rooms where we might 
 meet, it can be Everard Dominey only until my mis-
 
 6o THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 sion is ended. You think, perhaps, that I lay un- 
 necessary stress upon this. I do not. I know the 
 Princess and I know myself." 
 
 Seaman glanced at the clock. " At what hour was 
 your appointment?" 
 
 " It was not an appointment, it was a command," 
 Dominey replied. " I was told to be at Belgravo 
 Square at seven o'clock." 
 
 " I will have an understanding with the Princess," 
 promised Seaman, as he took up his hat. " Dine 
 with me downstairs at eight o'clock on my return." 
 
 Dominey, descending about an hour later, found 
 his friend Seaman already established at a small, 
 far-awa}^ table set in one of the recesses of the grill 
 room. He was welcomed with a little wave of the 
 hand, and cocktails were at once ordered. 
 
 " I have done your errand," Seaman announced. 
 " Since my visit I am bound to admit that I realise 
 a little more fully your anxiety." 
 
 " You probably had not met the Princess before.'' " 
 
 " I had not. I must confess that I found her a 
 lady of somewhat overpowering temperament. I 
 fancy, my young friend," Seaman continued, with 
 a twitch at the corner of his lips, " that somewhere 
 about August next vear you will find your hands 
 full." 
 
 " August next year can take care of itself," was 
 the cool reply. 
 
 " In the meantime," Seaman continued, " the Prin- 
 cess understands the situation and is, I think, im- 
 pressed. She will at any rate do nothing rash. You
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 6i 
 
 and she will meet within the course of the next few 
 hours, but on reasonable terms. To proceed ! As I 
 drove back here after my interview with the Princess, 
 I decided that it was time you made the acquaintance 
 of the person who is chiefly responsible for your 
 presence here." 
 
 " TernilofF? " 
 
 " Precisely ! You have maintained, my young 
 friend," Seaman went on after a brief pause, during 
 which one waiter had brought their cocktails and 
 another received their order for dinner, " a very dis- 
 creet and laudable silence with regard to those fur- 
 ther instructions which were promised to 3'ou imme- 
 diately you should arrive in London. Those instruc- 
 tions will never be committed to writing. They are 
 here." 
 
 Seaman touched his forehead and drained the re- 
 maining contents of his glass. 
 
 " My instructions are to trust you absolutely," 
 Dominey observed, " and, until the greater events stir, 
 to concentrate the greater part of my energies in 
 leading the natural life of the man whose name and 
 place I have taken." 
 
 " Quite so," Seaman acquiesced. 
 
 He glanced around the room for a moment or two, 
 as though interested in the people. Satisfied at last 
 that there was no chance of being overheard, he con- 
 tinued: 
 
 " The first idea you have to get out of your head, 
 my dear friend, if it is there, is that you are a spy. 
 You are nothing of the sort. You are not con- 
 nected with our remarkably perfect system of es-
 
 62 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 pionage in the slightest degree. You are a free 
 agent in all that a^ou maj^ choose to say or do. You 
 can believe in Germany or fear her — whichever you 
 like. You can join your cousin's husband in his 
 crusade for National Service, or you can join me in 
 my efforts to cement the bonds of friendship and 
 affection between the citizens of the two countries. 
 We really do not care in the least. Choose your own 
 part. Live yourself thoroughly into the life of Sir 
 Everard Dominey, Baronet, of Dominey Hall, Nor- 
 folk, and pursue exactly the course which you think 
 Sir Everard himself would be likely to take." 
 
 " This," Dominey admitted, " is very broad- 
 minded." 
 
 " It is common sense," was the prompt reply. 
 " With all your ability, you could not in six months' 
 time appreciably affect the position either way. 
 Therefore, we choose to have you concentrate the 
 whole of your energies upon one task and one task 
 only. If there is anything of the spy about your 
 mission here, it is not England or the English which 
 are to engage your attention. We require j^ou to 
 concentrate wholly and entirely upon Temiloff." 
 
 Dominey was startled. 
 
 " Terniloff .'' " he i-epeated. " I expected to work 
 with him, but — " 
 
 " Empty your mind of all preconceived ideas," 
 Seaman enjoined. "What your duties are with re- 
 gard to Terniloff will grow upon 3'ou gradually as 
 the situation develops." 
 
 " As yet," Dominey remarked, " I have not even 
 made his acquaintance."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 63 
 
 " I was on the point of telling you, earlier in our 
 conversation, that I have made an appointment for 
 you to see him at eleven o'clock to-night at the Em- 
 bassy. You will go to him at tliat hour. Remem- 
 ber, you know nothing, you are waiting for instruc- 
 tions. Let speech remain with him alone. Be par- 
 ticularly careful not to drop him a hint of your 
 knowledge of what is coming. You will find him 
 absolutely satisfied with the situation, absolutely 
 content. Take care not to disturb him. He is a 
 missioner of peace. So are you." 
 
 " I begin to understand," Dominey said thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " You shall understand everything when the time 
 comes for you to take a hand," Seaman promised, 
 " and do not in your zeal forget, my friend, that 
 your utility to our great cause will depend largel}' 
 upon your being able to establish and maintain your 
 position as an English gentleman. So far all has 
 gone well? " 
 
 " Perfectly, so far as I am concerned," Dominey 
 replied. " You must remember, though, that there 
 is 3'our end to keep up. Berlin will be receiving 
 frantic messages from East Africa as to my disap- 
 pearance. Not even my immediate associates were 
 in the secret." 
 
 " That is all understood," Seaman assured his com- 
 panion. " A little doctor named Schmidt has spent 
 many marks of the Government money in frantic 
 cables. You must have endeared yourself to him." 
 
 " He was a very faithful associate." 
 
 " He has been a very troublesome friend. It
 
 64 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 seems that the natives got tlieir stories rather mixed 
 up concerning your namesake, who apparently died 
 in the bush, and Schmidt continually emphasised 
 your promise to let him hear from Cape Town. 
 However, all this has been dealt with satisfactorily. 
 The only real dangers are over here, and so far you 
 seem to have encountered the principal ones." 
 
 " I have at any rate been accepted," Dominey de- 
 clared, " by my nearest living relative, and inci- 
 dentally I have discovered the one far-seeing person 
 in England who knows what is in store for us." 
 
 Seaman was momentarily anxious. 
 
 " Whom do you mean ? " 
 
 " The Duke of Worcester, my cousin's husband, 
 of whom you were speaking just now." 
 
 The little man's face relaxed. 
 
 " He reminds me of the geese who saved the Cap- 
 itol," he said, " a brainless man obsessed with one 
 idea. It is queer how often these fanatics discover 
 the truth. That reminds me," he added, taking a 
 small memorandum book from his waistcoat pocket 
 and glancing it through. " His Grace has a meet- 
 ing to-niglit at the Holborn Town Hall. I shall 
 make one of my usual interruptions." 
 
 " If he has so small a following, why don't you 
 leave him alone? " Dominey enquired. 
 
 " There are others associated with him," was the 
 placid reply, " who are not so insignificant. Besides, 
 when I interrupt I advertise my own little hobby." 
 
 " These — we English are strange people," Dom- 
 iney remarked, glancing around the room after a 
 brief but thoughtful pause. " We adverti-«e ^n/i
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 65 
 
 boast about our colossal wealth, and yet we are in- 
 capable of the slightest self-sacrifice in order to pre- 
 serve it. One would have imagined that our phi- 
 losophers, our historians, would warn us in irresist- 
 ible terms, by unanswerable scientific deduction, of 
 what was coming." 
 
 " My compliments to your pronouns," Seaman 
 murmured, with a little bow. A propos of what you 
 were saying, j^ou will never make an Englishman — 
 I beg your pardon, one of your countrymen — real- 
 ise anything unpleasant. He prefers to keep his 
 head comfortably down in the sand. But to leave 
 generalities, when do you think of going to Nor- 
 folk?" 
 
 " Within the next few days," Dominey replied. 
 
 " I shall breathe more freely when you are securely 
 established there," his companion declared. " Great 
 things wait upon your complete acceptance, in the 
 country as well as in town, as Sir Everard Dominey. 
 You are sure that yoxi perfectly understand your 
 position there as regards your — er — domestic af- 
 fairs?" 
 
 " I understand a'll that is necessary," was the 
 somewhat stiff reply. 
 
 " All that is necessary is not enough," Seaman 
 rejoined irritably. " I thought that you had wormed 
 the whole story out of that drunken Englishman?" 
 
 " He told me most of it. There were just one or 
 two points which lay beyond the limits where ques- 
 tioning was possible." 
 
 Seaman fro^\Tied angrily. 
 
 " In other words," he complained, " you remem-
 
 66 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 bered that you were a gentleman and not that you 
 were a German." 
 
 " The Englishman of a certain order," Dominey 
 pronounced, " even though he be degenerate, has a 
 certain obstinacy, generally connected with one par- 
 ticular thing, which nothing can break. We talked 
 together on that last night until morning; we drank 
 wine and brandy. I tore the story of my own exile 
 from my breast and laid it bare before him. Yet I 
 knew all the time, as I know now, that he kept some- 
 thing back." 
 
 There was a brief pause. During the last few 
 minutes a certain tension had crept in between the 
 two men. With it, their personal characteristics 
 seemed to have become intensified. Dominey was 
 more than ever the aristocrat; Seaman the plebeian 
 schemer, unabashed and desperately in earnest. He 
 leaned presently a little way across the table. His 
 eyes had narrowed but they were as bright as steel. 
 His teeth were more prominent than usual. 
 
 " You should have dragged it from his throat," 
 he insisted. " It is not your duty to nurse fine per- 
 sonal feelings. Heart and soul j^ou stand pledged 
 to great things. I cannot at this moment give you 
 any idea what you may not mean to us after the 
 trouble has come, if you are able to play your part 
 still in this country as Everard Dominey of Dominey 
 Hall. I know well enough that the sense of per- 
 sonal honour amongst the Prussian aristocracy is 
 the finest in the world, and yet there is not a single 
 man of your order who should not be prepared to 
 lie or cheat for his country's sake. You must fall
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 67 
 
 into line with your fellows. Once more, it is not 
 only your task with regard to TernilofF which makes 
 your recognition as Everard Dominey so important 
 to us. It is the things which are to come later. — 
 Come, enough of this subject. I know that you un- 
 derstand. We grow too serious. How shall you 
 spend your evening until eleven o'clock.'' Remember 
 you did not leave England an anchorite. Sir Everard. 
 You must have your amusements. Why not try a 
 music hall.'' " 
 
 " My mind is too full of other things," Dominey 
 objected. 
 
 " Then come with me to Holborn," the little man 
 suggested. " It will amuse you. We will part at, 
 the door, and you shall sit at the back of the hall, 
 out of sight. You shall hear the haunting eloquence 
 of your cousin-in-law. You shall hear him trying 
 to warn the men and women of England of the danger 
 awaiting them from the great and rapacious Ger- 
 man nation. What do you S3iy? " 
 
 " I will come," Dominey replied in spiritless fash- 
 ion. " It will be better than a music hall, at any 
 rate. I am not at all sure, Seaman, that the hard- 
 est part of my task over here will not be this neces- 
 sity for self-imposed amusements." 
 
 His companion struck the table gently but impa- 
 tiently with his clenched fist. 
 
 " Man, you are young ! " he exclaimed. " You are 
 like the rest of us. You carry your life in your 
 hands. Don't nourish past griefs. Cast the mem- 
 ory of them away. There's nothing which narrows 
 a man more than morbidness. You have a past which
 
 68 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 may sometimes bring the ghosts around you, but 
 remember the sin was not wholly yours, and there is 
 an atonement which in measured fashion you may 
 commence whenever you please. I have said enough 
 about that. Greatness and gaiety go hand in hand. 
 There ! You see, I was a philosopher before I be- 
 came a professor of propaganda. Good ! You 
 smile. That is something gained, at any rate. Now 
 we will take a taxicab to Holborn and I will show 
 you something really humorous." 
 
 At the entrance to the town hall, the two men, at 
 Seaman's instigation, parted, making their way in- 
 side by different doors. Dominey found a retired 
 seat under a balcony, where he was unlikely to be 
 recognised from the platform. Seaman, on the other 
 hand, took up a more prominent position at the end 
 of one of the front rows of benches. The meeting 
 was by no means overcrowded, overenthusiastic, over- 
 anything. There were rows of empty benches, a 
 good many young couples who seemed to have come 
 in for shelter from the inclement night, a few sturdy, 
 respectable-looking tradesmen who had come because 
 it seemed to be the respectable thing to do, a few 
 genuinely interested, and here and there, although 
 they were decidedly in the minority, a sprinkling of 
 enthusiasts. On the platform was the Duke, with 
 civic dignitaries on either side of him ; a distinguished 
 soldier, a Member of Parliament, a half-dozen or so 
 of nondescript residents from the neighbourhood, and 
 Captain Bartram. The meeting was on the point of 
 commencement as Dominey settled down in his corner. 
 
 First of all the Duke rose, and in a few hackneyed
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 69 
 
 but earnest sentences introduced his young friend 
 Captain Bartram. The latter, who sprang at once 
 into the middle of his subject, was nervous and more 
 than a little bitter. He explained that he had re- 
 signed his commission and was therefore free to speak 
 his mind. He spoke of enormous military prepara- 
 tions in Germany and a general air of tense expecta 
 tion. Against whom were these preparations.'' 
 Without an earthly doubt against Germany's great- 
 est rival, whose millions of young men, even in this 
 hour of danger, preferred playing or watching foot- 
 ball or cricket on Saturday afternoons to realising 
 their duty. The conclusion of an ill-pointed but 
 earnest speech was punctuated by the furtive en- 
 trance into the hall of a small boy selling evening 
 newspapers, and there was a temporary diversion 
 from any interest in the proceedings on the part of 
 the younger portion of the audience, whilst they satis- 
 fied themselves as to the result of various Cup Ties. 
 The Member of Parliament then descended upon 
 them in a whirlwind of oratory and in his best House 
 of Commons style. He spoke of black clouds and of 
 the cold breeze that went before the coming thunder- 
 storm. He pointed to the collapse of every great 
 nation throughout history who had neglected the 
 arts of self-defence. He appealed to the youth of 
 the nation to prepare themselves to guard their 
 womenkind, their homes, the sacred soil of their coun- 
 try, and at that point was interrupted by a drowsy 
 member of the audience with stentorian lungs, who 
 seemed just at that moment to have waked up. 
 "What about the Navy, guv'nor.? "
 
 70 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 The orator swept upon the interrupter in his fa- 
 mous platform manner. The Navy, he declared, 
 could be trusted at all times to do its duty, but it 
 could not fight on sea and land. Would the young 
 man who had just interrupted do his, and enrol his 
 name for drill and national service that evening.'' — 
 and so on. The distinguished soldier, who was suf- 
 fering from a cold, fired off a few husky sentences 
 only, to the tune of rounds of applause. The pro- 
 ceedings were wound up by the Duke, who was obvi- 
 ously, with the exception of the distinguished soldier, 
 much more in earnest than any of them, and secured 
 upon the whole a respectful attention. He brought 
 in a few historical allusions, pleaded for a greater 
 spirit of earnestness and citizenship amongst the men 
 of the country, appealed even to the Avomen to de- 
 velop their sense of responsibility? and sat down 
 amidst a little burst of quite enthusiastic applause. — 
 The vote of thanks to the chairman was on the point 
 of being proposed when Mr. Seaman, standing up 
 in his place, appealed to the chairman for permis- 
 sion to say a few words. The Duke, who had had 
 some experience with Mr. Seaman before, looked 
 at him severely, but the smile with which Mr. 
 Seaman looked around upon the audience was so 
 good-natured and attractive, that he had no al- 
 ternative but to assent. Seaman scrambled up the 
 steps on to the platform, coughed apologetically, 
 bowed to the Duke, and took possession of the meet- 
 ing. After a word or two of compliment to the chair- 
 man, he made his confession. He was a German citi- 
 zen -^ he was indeed one of that bloodthirsty race.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 71 
 
 (Some laughter.) He was also, and it was his excuse 
 for standing there, the founder and secretary of a 
 league, doubtless well known to them, a league for 
 promoting more friendly relations between the busi- 
 ness men of Germany and England. Some of the 
 remarks which he had heard that evening had pained 
 him deepl3\ Business often took him to Germany, 
 and as a German he would be doing less than his duty 
 if he did not stand up there and tell them that the 
 average German loved the Englishman like a brother, 
 that the object of his life was to come into greater 
 kinship with him, that German}^, even at that moment, 
 was standing with hand outstretched to her relatives 
 across the North Sea, begging for a deeper sympathy, 
 begging for a larger understanding. (Applause 
 from the audience, murmurs of dissent from the plat- 
 form.) And as to those military preparations of 
 which they had heard so much (with a severe glance 
 at Captain Bartram), let them glance for one mo- 
 ment at the frontiers of Germany, let them realise 
 that eastwards Germany was being continually 
 pressed by an ancient and historic foe of enormous 
 strength. He would not waste their time telling 
 them of the political difficulties which Germany had 
 had to face during the last generation. He would 
 simply tell them this great truth, — the foe for whom 
 Germany was obliged to make these great military 
 preparations was Russia. If ever they were used 
 it would be against Russia, and at Russia's instiga- 
 tion. — In his humble way he was striving for the 
 betterment of relations between the dearly beloved 
 country of his birth and the equally beloved country
 
 72 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 of his adoption. Such meetings as these, instituted, 
 as it seemed to him, for the propagation of unfair and 
 unjustified suspicions, were one of the greatest diffi- 
 culties in his way. He could not for a moment doubt 
 that these gentlemen upon the platform were patriots. 
 They would prove it more profitably, both to them- 
 selves and their country, if they abandoned their 
 present prejudiced and harmful campaign and be- 
 came patrons of his Society. 
 
 Seaman's little bow to the chairman was good- 
 humoured, tolerant, a little wistful. The Duke's ieir 
 words, prefaced by an indignant protest against the 
 intrusion of a German propagandist into an English 
 patriotic meeting, did nothing to undo the effect pro- 
 duced by this undesired stranger. When the meet- 
 ing broke up, it was doubtful whether a single ad- 
 herent had been gained to the cause of National 
 Service. The Duke went home full of wrath, and 
 Seaman chuckled with genuine merriment as he 
 stepped into the taxi whish Dominey had secured, at 
 the corner of the street. 
 
 " I promised you entertainment," he observed. 
 " Confess that I have kept my word." 
 
 Dominey smiled enigmatically. " You certainly 
 succeeded in making fools of a number of respectable 
 and well-meaning men." 
 
 " The miracle of it extends further," Seaman 
 agreed, " To-night, in its small way, is a supreme 
 example of the transcendental follies of democracy. 
 England is being slowly choked and strangled with 
 too much liberty. She is like a child being over- 
 fed with jam. Imagine, in our dear country, an
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 73 
 
 Englishman being allowed to mount the platform and 
 spout, undisturbed, English propaganda in deadly 
 opposition to German interests. The so-called lib- 
 erty of the Englishman is like the cuckoo in his po- 
 litical nest. Countries must be governed. They 
 cannot govern themselves. The time of war will 
 prove all that." 
 
 " Yet in any great crisis of a nation's history," 
 Dominey queried, " surely there is safety in a multi- 
 tude of counsellors.'^" 
 
 " There would be always a multitude of coun- 
 sellors," Seaman replied, " in Germany as in Eng- 
 land. The trouble for this country is that they 
 would be all expressed publicly and in the press, each 
 view would have its adherents, and the Government 
 be split up into factions. In Germany, the real 
 destinies of the country are decided in secret. There 
 are counsellors there, too, earnest and wise coun- 
 sellors, but no one knows their varying views. All 
 that one learns is the result, spoken through the lips 
 of tht Kaiser, spoken once and for all." 
 
 Dominey was showing signs of a rare interest in his 
 companion's conversation. His eyes were bright, his 
 usually impassive features seemed to have become 
 more mobile and strained. He laid his hand on Sea- 
 man's arm. 
 
 " Listen," he said, " we are in London, alone in a 
 taxicab, secure against any possible eavesdropping. 
 You preach the advantage of our Kaiser-led coun- 
 try. Do you really believe that the Kaiser is the 
 man for the task which is coming? " 
 
 Seaman's narrow eyes glittered. He looked at
 
 74 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 his companion in satisfaction. His forehead was 
 puckered, his eternal smile gone. He was the man of 
 intellect. 
 
 " So you are waking up from the lethargy of 
 Africa, my friend ! " he exclaimed, " You are be- 
 ginning to think. As you ask me, so shall I answer. 
 The Kaiser is a vain, bombastic dreamer, the great- 
 est egotist who ever lived, with a diseased person- 
 ality, a ceaseless craving for the limelight. But he 
 has also the genius for government. I mean this: 
 he is a splendid medium for the expression of the brain 
 power of his counsellors. Their words will pass 
 through his personality, and he will believe them 
 his. What is more, they will sound like his. He 
 will see himself the knight in shining armour. All 
 Europe will bow down before this self-imagined Csesar, 
 and no one except we who are behind Avill realise the 
 ass's head. There is no one else in this world whom 
 I have ever met so well fitted to lead our great na- 
 tion on to the destiny she deserves. — And now, my 
 friend, to-morrow, if you like, we will speak of these 
 matters again. To-night, you have other things to 
 think about. You are going into the great places 
 where I never penetrate. You have an hour to 
 change and prepare. At eleven o'clock the Prince 
 von Terniloff will expect you."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 There had been a dinner party and a very small 
 reception afterwards at the great Embass}' in Carlton 
 House Terrace. The Ambassador, Prince Terni- 
 lofF, was bidding farewell to his wife's cousin, the 
 Princess Eiderstrom, the last of his guests. She 
 drew him on one side for a moment. 
 
 " Your Excellency," she said, " I have been hop- 
 ing for a word with you all the evening." 
 
 " And I with you, dear Stephanie," he answered. 
 " It is very early. Let us sit down for a moment." 
 
 He led her towards a settee but she shook her 
 head. 
 
 " You have an appointment at half-past eleven," 
 she said. " I wish 3'ou to keep it." 
 
 "You know, then?" 
 
 " I lunched to-day at the Carlton grill room. In 
 the reception-room I came face to face with Leopold 
 von Ragastein." 
 
 The Ambassador made no remark. It seemed to 
 be his wish to hear first all that his companion had 
 to say. After a moment's pause she continued: 
 
 " I spoke to him, and he denied himself. To me ! 
 I think that those were the most terrible seconds of 
 my life. I have never suffered more. I sball never 
 suffer so much again."
 
 76 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " It was most unfortunate," the Prince murmured 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " This evening," she went on, " I received a visit 
 from a man whom I took at first to be an insignificant 
 member of the German bourgeoisie. I learnt some- 
 thing of his true position later. He came to me to 
 explain that Leopold was engaged in this country on 
 secret service, that he was passing under the name 
 which he gave me, — Sir Everard Dominey, an Eng- 
 lish baronet, long lost in Africa. You know of 
 this?" 
 
 " I know that to-night I am receiving a visit from 
 Sir Everard Dominey." 
 
 " He is to work under your auspices? " 
 
 " By no means," the Prince rejoined warmly. " I 
 am not favourably inclined towards this network of 
 espionage. The school of diplomacy in which I have 
 been brought up tries to work without such ignoble 
 means." 
 
 " One realises that," she said. " Leopold is com- 
 ing, however, to-night, to pay his respects to you." 
 
 " He is waiting for me now in my study," the Am- 
 bassador asserted. 
 
 " You will do me the service of conveying to him 
 a message from me," she continued. " This man 
 Seaman pointed out to me the unwisdom of any asso- 
 ciation between myself and Leopold, under present 
 conditions. I listened to all that he had to say. I 
 reserved my decision. I have now considered the 
 matter. I will compromise with necessity. I will 
 be content with the acquaintance of Sir Everard 
 Dominey, but that I will have."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 77 
 
 ** For myself," the Ambassador reflected, " I do 
 not even know what Von Ragastein's mission over 
 here is, but if in Berlin they decide that, for the more 
 complete preservation of his incognito, association 
 between you and him is undesirable — " 
 
 She laid her fingers upon his arm. 
 
 " Stop ! " she ordered. " 1 am not of Berlin. I 
 am not a German. I am not even an Austrian. I 
 am Hungarian, and though I am willing to study 
 your interests, I am not willing to place them before 
 my own life. I make terms, but I do not surrender. 
 Those terms I will discuss with Leopold. Ah, be 
 kind to me ! " she went on, with a sudden change of 
 voice. " Since those few minutes at midday I have 
 lived in a dream. Only one thing can quiet me. I 
 must speak to him, I must decide with him what I 
 will do. You will help.'' " 
 
 " An acquaintance between j^ou and Sir Everard 
 Dominey," he admitted, " is certainly a perfectly 
 natural thing." 
 
 " Look at ir.e," she begged. 
 
 He turned and looked into her face. Underneath 
 her beautiful eyes were dark lines ; there was some- 
 thing pitiful about the curve of her mouth. He 
 remembered that although she had carried herself 
 throughout the evening with all the dignity which was 
 second nature to her, he had overheard more than 
 one sympathetic comment upon her ^appearance. 
 
 " I can see that you are suffering," he remarked 
 kindly. 
 
 " My e^^es are hot, and inside I am on fire," she 
 continued. " I must speak to Leopold. Freda has
 
 78 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 asked me to stay and talk to her for an hour. My 
 car waits. Arrange that he drives me home. Oh! 
 believe me, dear friend, I am a very human woman, 
 and there is nothing in the world to be gained by 
 treating me as though I were of wood or stone. To- 
 night I can see him without observation. If you re- 
 fuse, I shall take other means. I will make no prom- 
 ises. I will not even promise that I will not call out 
 before him in the streets that he is a liar, that his life 
 is a lie. I will call him Leopold von Ragastein — " 
 
 " Hush ! " he begged her. " Stephanie, 3'ou are 
 nervous. I have not yet answered your entreaty." 
 
 " You consent? " 
 
 " I consent," he promised. " After our interview, 
 I shall bring the young man to Freda's room and 
 present him. You will be there. He can offer you 
 his escort." 
 
 She suddenly stooped and kissed his hand. An 
 immense relief was in her face. 
 
 " Now I will keep you no longer. Freda is wait- 
 ing for me." 
 
 The Ambassador strolled thoughtfully away into 
 his own den at the back of the house, where Dominey 
 was waiting for him. 
 
 " I am glad to see you," the former said, holding 
 out his hand. " For five minutes I desire to talk to 
 your real self. After that, for the rest of your time 
 in England, I will respect your new identity." 
 
 Dominey bowed in silence. His host pointed to the 
 sideboard. 
 
 " Come," he continued, " there are cigars and ciga- 
 rettes at your elbow, whisky and soda on the side-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 79 
 
 board. Make yourself at home in that chair there. 
 Africa has really changed you very little. Do you 
 remember our previous meeting, in Saxony? " 
 " I remember it perfectly, your Excellency." 
 " His Majesty knew how to keep Court in those 
 days," the Ambassador went on. " One was tempted 
 to believe oneself at an English country party. 
 However, that much of the past. You know, of 
 course, that I entirely disapprove of your present 
 position here? " 
 
 " I gathered as much, your Excellency." 
 " We will have no reserves with one another," the 
 Prince declared, lighting a cigar. " I know quite 
 well that you form part of a network of espionage 
 in this country which I consider wholly unnecessary. 
 That is simply a question of method. I have no 
 doubt that you are here with the same object as 
 I am, the object which the Kaiser has declared to 
 me with his own lips is nearest to his heart — to ce- 
 ment the bonds of friendship between Germany and 
 England." 
 
 " You believe, sir, that that is possible? " 
 " I am convinced of it," was the earnest reply. 
 " I do not know what the exact nature of your work 
 over here is to be, but I am glad to have an oppor- 
 tunity of putting before you my convictions. I be- 
 lieve that in Berlin the character of some of the 
 leading statesmen here has been misunderstood and 
 misrepresented. I find on all sides of me an earnest 
 and sincere desire for peace. I have convinced my- 
 self that there is not a single statesman in this coun- 
 try who is desirous of war with Germany."
 
 8o THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Dominey was listening intently, with the air of 
 one who hears unexpected things. 
 
 " But, your Excellencj'," he ventured, " what about 
 the matter from our point of view? There are a 
 great many in our country, whom you and I know 
 of, who look forward to a war with England as inevi- 
 table. Germany must become, we all believe, the 
 greatest empire in the world. She must climb there, 
 as one of our friends once said, with her foot upon 
 the neck of the British lion." 
 
 " You are out of date," the Ambassador declared 
 earnestly. " I see now why they sent you to me. 
 Those days have passed. There is room in the world 
 for Great Britain and for Germany. The disintegra- 
 tion of Russia in the near future is a certainty. It 
 is eastward that we must look for any great exten- 
 sion of territory." 
 
 " These things have been decided.'' " 
 
 " Absolutely ! The3^ form the soul of ni}^ mission 
 here. My mandate is one of peace, and tlie more I 
 see of English statesmen and the more I understand 
 the British outlook, the more sanguine I am as to 
 the success of my efforts. This is why all this out- 
 side espionage with which Seaman is so largely con- 
 cerned seems to me at times unwise and unneces- 
 sary." 
 
 " And my own mission.'' " Dominey enquired. 
 
 " Its nature," the Prince replied, " is not as 3'et 
 divulged, but if, as I have' been given to understand, 
 it is to become closely connected with my own, then I 
 am verj^ sure you will presently find that its text 
 also is Peace."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 8i 
 
 Dorainey rose to his feet, prepared to take his 
 leave. 
 
 " These matters will be solved for us," he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " There is just one word more, on a somewhat 
 more private matter," TernilofF said in an altered 
 tone. " The Princess Eiderstrom is upstairs." 
 
 "In this house?" 
 
 " Waiting for a word with you. Our friend Sea- 
 man has been with her this evening. I understand 
 that she is content to subscribe to the present situa- 
 tion. She makes one condition, however." 
 
 "And that.?" 
 
 " She insists upon it that I present Sir Everard 
 Dominey." 
 
 The latter did not attempt to conceal his perturba- 
 tion. 
 
 " I need scarcely point out to 3'ou, sir," he pro- 
 tested, " that any association between the Princess 
 and myself is likely to largely increase the difficul- 
 ties of my position here." 
 
 The Ambassador sighed. 
 
 " I quite appreciate that," he admitted. " Both 
 Seaman and I have endeavoured to reason with her, 
 but, as 3'ou are doubtless aware, the Princess is a 
 woman of very strong will. She is also very power- 
 fully placed here, and it is the urgent desire of the 
 Court at Berlin to placate in every way the Hun- 
 garian nobilit3\ You will understand, of course, 
 that I speak from a political point of view only. I 
 cannot ignore the fact of your unfortunate relations 
 with the late Prince, but in considering the present
 
 82 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 position you will, I am sure, remember the greater 
 interests." 
 
 His visitor was silent for a moment. 
 
 "You say that the Princess is waiting here?" 
 
 " She is with my wife and asks for your escort 
 home. My wife also looks forward to the pleasure 
 of renewing her acquaintance with you." 
 
 " I shall accept your Excellency's guidance in the 
 matter," Dominey decided. 
 
 The Princess TernilofF was a woman of world cul- 
 ture, an artist, and still an extremely attractive 
 woman. She received the visitor whom her husband 
 brought to her in a very charming little room fur- 
 nished after the style of the simplest French period, 
 and she did her best to relieve the strain of what she 
 understood must be a somewhat trying moment. 
 
 " We are delighted to welcome you to London, Sir 
 Everard Dominey," she said, taking his hand, " and 
 I hope that we shall often see you here. I want to 
 present you to my cousin, who is interested in you, 
 I must tell you frankly, because of your likeness to 
 a very dear friend of hers. Stephanie, this is Sir 
 Everard Dominey — the Princess Eiderstrom." 
 
 Stephanie, who was seated upon the couch from 
 which her cousin had just risen, held out her hand 
 to Dominey, who made her a very low and formal 
 bow. Her gown was of unrelieved black. Wonder- 
 ful diamonds flashed around her neck, and she wore 
 also a tiara fashioned after the Hungarian style, a 
 little low on her forehead. Her manner and tone 
 still indicated some measure of rebellion against the 
 situation.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 83 
 
 " You have forgiven me for my insistence this 
 morning? " she asked. " It was hard for me to be- 
 lieve that you were not indeed the person for whom 
 I mistook you." 
 
 " Other people have spoken to me of the likeness," 
 Dominey replied. " It is a matter of regret to me 
 that I can claim to be no more than a simple Norfolk 
 baronet." 
 
 " Without any previous experience of European 
 Courts?" 
 
 " Without any at all." 
 
 " Your German is wonderfully pure for an un- 
 travelled man." 
 
 " Languages were the sole accomplishment I 
 brought away from my misspent school days." 
 
 " You are not going to bury yourself in Nor- 
 folk, Sir Everard? " the Princess Terniloff enquired. 
 
 " Norfolk is very near London these days," Dom- 
 iney replied, " and I have experienced more than my 
 share of solitude during the last few years. I hope 
 to spend a portion of my time here." 
 
 " You must dine with us one night," the Princess 
 insisted, " and tell us about Africa. My husband 
 would be so interested." 
 
 " You are very kind." 
 
 Stephanie rose slowly to her feet, leaned grace- 
 fully over and kissed her hostess on both cheeks, and 
 submitted her hand to the Prince, who raised it to 
 his lips. Then she turned to Dominey. 
 
 "Will you be so kind as to see me home?" she 
 asked. " Afterwards, my car can take you on wher- 
 ever you choose to ^o."
 
 84 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I shall be very happ3s" Dominey assented. 
 
 He, too, made his farewells. A servant in the 
 hall handed him his hat and coat, and he took his 
 place in the car by Stephanie's side. She touched 
 the electric switch as they glided off. The car was 
 in darkness. 
 
 " I think," she murmured, " that I could not have 
 borne another moment of this juggling with words. 
 Leopold ■ — we are alone ! " 
 
 He caught the flash of her jewels, the soft bril- 
 liance of her eyes as she leaned towards him. His 
 voice sounded, even to himself, harsh and strident. 
 
 " You mistake. Princess. My name is not Leo- 
 pold. I am Everard Dominey." 
 
 " Oh, I know that you are very obstinate," she 
 said softly, " very obstinate and very devoted to 3^our 
 marvellous country, but you have a soul, Leopold ; 
 you know that there are human duties as great as 
 any your country ever imposed upon you. You 
 know what I look for from you, what I must find 
 from you or go down into hell, ashamed and miser- 
 able." 
 
 He felt his throat suddenly dry. 
 
 " Listen," he muttered, " until the hour strikes, 
 I must remain to 3^ou as to the world, alone or in a 
 crowd — Everard Dominey. There is one way and 
 one way only of carrying through my appointed 
 task." 
 
 She gave a little hysterical sob. 
 
 " Wait," she begged. " I will answer you in a 
 moment. Give me your hand." 
 
 He opened the fingers which he had kept clenched
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 85 
 
 together, and he felt the liot grip of her hand, hold- 
 ing his passionately, drawing it towards her until 
 the fingers of her other hand, too, fell upon it. So 
 she sat for several moments. 
 
 " Leopold," she continued presently, " I under- 
 stand. You are afraid that I shall betray our love. 
 You have reason. I am full of impulses and passion, 
 as you know, but I have restraint. What we are to 
 one another when we are alone, no soul in this world 
 need know. I will be careful. I swear it. I will 
 never even look at you as tliough m}' heart ached for 
 your notice, when we are in the presence of other 
 people. You shall come and see me as seldom as 
 you wish. I will receive you alone only as often as 
 you sa}'. But don't treat me like this. Tell me 
 you have come back. Throw off this hideous mask, 
 if it be only for a moment." 
 
 He sat quite still, although her hands were tear- 
 ing at his, her lips and eyes beseeching him. 
 
 " Whatever may come afterwards," he pronounced 
 inexorabl}', " until the time arrives I am Everard 
 Dominey. I cannot take advantage of 3'our feelings 
 for Leopold von Ragastein. He is not here. He 
 is in Africa. Perhaps some day he will come back 
 to 3'ou and be all that you wish." 
 
 She flung his hands away. He felt her eyes burn- 
 ing into his, this time with something more like 
 furious curiosity. 
 
 " Let me look at you," she cried. " Let me be 
 sure. Is this just some ghastly change, or are you 
 an impostor.'' My heart is growing chilled. Are 
 you the man I have waited for all these years? Are
 
 86 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 you the man to whom I have given my lips, for whose 
 sake I offered up my reputation as a sacrifice, the 
 man who slew my husband and left me? " 
 
 " I was exiled," he reminded her, his own voice 
 shaking with emotion. " You know that. So far as 
 other things are concerned, I am exiled now. I am 
 working out my expiation." 
 
 She leaned back in her seat with an air of ex- 
 haustion. Her ej'es closed. Then the car drove in 
 through some iron gates and stopped in front of her 
 door, which was immediately opened. A footman 
 hurried out. She turned to Dominey. 
 
 " You will not enter," she pleaded, " for a short 
 time.?" 
 
 " If you will permit me to pay you a visit, it will 
 give me great pleasure," he answered formally. " I 
 will call, if I may, on my return from Norfolk." 
 
 She gave him her hand with a set smile. 
 
 " Let my people take you wherever you want to 
 go," she invited, " and remember," she added, drop- 
 ping her voice, " I do not admit defeat. This is 
 not the last word between us." 
 
 She disappeared in some state, escorted through 
 the great front door of one of London's few palaces 
 by an attractive major-domo and footman in the 
 livery of her House. Dominey drove back to the 
 Carlton, where in the lounge he found the band play- 
 ing, crowds still sitting around, amongst whom Sea- 
 man was conspicuous, in his neat dinner clothes and 
 with his cherubic air of inviting attention from pros- 
 pective new acquaintances. He greeted Dominey en- 
 thusiastically.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 87 
 
 " Come," he exclaimed, " I am weary of solitude ! 
 I have seen scarcely a face that I recognise. My 
 tongue is parched with inaction. I like to talk, and 
 there has been no one to talk to. I might as well 
 have opened up my little house in Forest Hill." 
 
 " I'll talk to you if you like," Dominey promised 
 a little grimly, glancing at the clock and hastily 
 ordering a whisky and soda. " I will b.gin by tell- 
 ing you this," he added, lowering his tone. " I have 
 discovered the greatest danger I shall have to face 
 during my enterprise." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " A woman — the Princess Eiderstrom." 
 
 Seaman lit one of his inevitable cigars and threw 
 one of his short, fat legs over the other. He gazed 
 for a moment with an air of satisfaction at his small 
 foot, neatly encased in court shoes. 
 
 " You surprise me," he confessed. " I have con- 
 sidered the matter. I cannot see any great diffi- 
 culty." 
 
 " Then you must be closing your eyes to it wil- 
 fuU}^," Dominey retorted, " or else you are wholly 
 ignorant of the Princess's temperament and disposi- 
 tion." 
 
 " I believe I appreciate both," Seaman replied, 
 " but I still do not see any peculiar difficulty in the 
 situation. As an English nobleman you have a per- 
 fect right to enjoy the friendship of the Princess 
 Eiderstrom." 
 
 " And I thought you Avere a man of sentiment ! " 
 Domincj' scoffed. " I thought you understood a lit- 
 tle of human nature. Stephanie Eiderstrom is Hun-
 
 88 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 garian born and bred. Even race has never taught 
 her self-restraint. You don't seriously suppose that 
 after all these 3'ears, after all she has suffered — and 
 she has suffered — she is going to be content with an 
 emasculated form of friendship? I talk to you with- 
 out reserve, Seaman. She has made it ver}'^ plain to- 
 night that she is going to be content with nothing of 
 the sort." 
 
 " What takes place between you in private," Sea- 
 man began — 
 
 " Rubbish ! " his companion interrupted. " The 
 Princess is an impulsive, a passionate, a distinctly 
 primitive woman, with a good deal of the wild animal 
 in her still. Plots or political necessities are not 
 likely to count a snap of the fingers with her." 
 
 " But surely," Seaman protested, " she must un- 
 derstand that your country has claimed you for a 
 great work.'' " 
 
 Dominey shook his head. 
 
 " She is not a German," he pointed out. " On the 
 contrary, like a great many other Hungarians, I 
 think she rather dislikes Germany and Germans. 
 Her only concern is the personal question between 
 us. She considers that every moment of the rest 
 of my life should be devoted to her." 
 
 " Perhaps it is as well," Seaman remarked, " that 
 you have arranged to go down to-morrow to Dom- 
 iney. I will think out a scheme. Something must 
 be dooe to pacify her." 
 
 The lights were being put out. The two men rose 
 a Mttle unwillingly. Dominey felt singularly indis- 
 posed for sleep, but anxious at the same time to get
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 89 
 
 rid of his companion. They strolled into the dark- 
 ened hall of the hotel together. 
 
 " I will deal with this matter for you as well as 
 I can," Seaman promised. " To my mind, your 
 greatest difficulty will be encountered to-morrow. 
 You know what you have to deal with down at Dom- 
 iney." 
 
 Dominey's face was very set and grave. 
 
 " I am prepared," he said. 
 
 Seaman still hesitated. 
 
 " Do 3'ou remember," he asked, " that when we 
 talked over your plans at Cape Town, you showed 
 me a picture of — of Lady Dominey ? " 
 
 " I remember." 
 
 " May I have one more look at it? " 
 
 Domine}', with fingers that trembled a little, drew 
 from the breast pocket of his coat a leather case, and 
 from that a worn picture. The two men looked at 
 it side by side beneath one of the electric standards 
 which had been left burning. The face was the face 
 of a girl, almost a child, and the great eyes seemed 
 filled with a queer, appealing light. There was some- 
 thing of the same suggestion to be found in the lips, 
 a certain helplessness, an appeal for love and pro- 
 tection to some stronger being. 
 
 Seaman turned away with a little grunt, and com- 
 mented: 
 
 " Permitting myself to reassume for a moment or 
 two the ordinary sentiments of an ordinary human 
 being, I would sooner have a dozen of your Prin- 
 cesses to deal with than the original of that picture."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 " Your ancestral home," JNIr. Mangan observed, 
 as the car turned the first bend in the grass-grown 
 avenue and Dominey Hall came into sight. 
 " Damned fine house, too ! " 
 
 His companion made no reply. A stonn had come 
 up during the last few minutes, and, as though he 
 felt the cold, he had dragged his hat over his eyes and 
 turned his coat collar up to his ears. The house, 
 with its great double front, was now clearly visible 
 — the time-worn, Elizabethan, red brick outline that 
 faced the park southwards, and the stone-supported, 
 grim and weather-stained back which confronted the 
 marshes and the sea. Mr. Mangan continued to 
 make amiable conversation. 
 
 " We have kept the old place weathertight, some- 
 how or other," he said, " and I don't think you'll 
 miss the timber much. We've taken it as far as 
 possible from the outlying woods." 
 
 " Any from the Black Wood.'' " Dominey asked, 
 without turning his head. 
 
 Mr. Mangan shook his head. 
 
 " Not a stump," he replied, " and for a very ex- 
 cellent reason. Not one of the woodmen would ever 
 go near the place." 
 
 " The superstition remains, then? " 
 
 " The villagers are absolutely rabid about it.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 91 
 
 There are at least a dozen who declare that they 
 have seen the ghost of Roger Unthank, and a score 
 or more who will swear by all that is holy that they 
 have heard his call at night." 
 
 " Does he still select the park and the terrace out- 
 side the house for his midnight perambulations? " 
 Dominey enquired. 
 
 The lawyer hesitated. 
 
 " The idea is, I believe," he said, " that the ghost 
 makes his way out from the wood and sits on the 
 terrace underneath Lady Dominey's window. All 
 bunkum, of course, but I can assure you that every 
 servant and caretaker we've had there has given no- 
 tice within a month. That is the sole reason why 
 I haven't ventured to recommend long ago that you 
 should get rid of Mrs. Unthank." 
 
 " She is still in attendance upon Lady Dominey, 
 then?" 
 
 " Simply because we couldn't get any one else to 
 stay there," the lawyer explained, " and her lady- 
 ship positively declines to leave the Hall. Between 
 ourselves, I think it's time a change was made. We'll 
 have a chat after dinner, if you've no objection. — 
 You see, we've left all the trees in the park," he went 
 on, with an air of satisfaction. " Beautiful place, 
 this, in the springtime. I was down last May for a 
 night, and I never saw such buttercups in my life. 
 The cows here were almost up to their knees in pas- 
 ture, and the bluebells in the home woods were won- 
 derful. The whole of the little painting colony down 
 at Flankney turned themselves loose upon the place 
 last spring."
 
 92 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Some of the old wall is down, I see," Dominey re- 
 marked with a frown, as he gazed towards the en- 
 closed kitchen garden, 
 
 Mr. Mangan was momentarily surprised, 
 
 " That wall has been down, to ni}' knowledge, for 
 twent}' years," he reminded his companion. 
 
 Dominey nodded. " I had forgotten," he mut- 
 tered. 
 
 " We wrote you, by the by," the lawyer continued, 
 " suggesting the sale of one or two of the pictures, 
 to form a fund for repairs, but thank goodness j^ou 
 didn't reply ! We'll have some workpeople here as 
 soon as you've decided what you'd like done. I'm 
 afraid," he added, as they turned in through some 
 iron gates and entered the last sweep in front of the 
 house, " 3^ou won't find many familiar faces to wel- 
 come you. There's Loveybond, the gardener, whom 
 you would scarcely remember, and Middleton, the 
 head keeper, who has really been a godsend so far as 
 the game is concerned. No one at all indoors, except 
 — Mrs. Unthank." 
 
 The car drew up at that moment in front of the 
 great porch. There was nothing in the shape of a 
 reception. The}' had even to ring the bell before 
 the door was opened by a manservant sent down a 
 few days previously from town. In the background, 
 v.'earing a brown velveteen coat, with breeches and 
 leggings of corduroy, stood an elderly man with 
 white side whiskers and skin as brown as a piece of 
 parchment, leaning heavily upon a long ash stick. 
 Half a dozen maidservants, new importations, were 
 visible in the background, and a second man Avas
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 93 
 
 taking possession of the luggage. Mr. Mangan took 
 charge of the proceedings. 
 
 " jNIiddleton," he said, resting his hand upon the 
 old man's shoulder, " here's 3'our master come back 
 again. Sir Everard was very pleased to hear that 
 3'ou were still here; and you, Loveybond." 
 
 The old man grasped the hand which Dominey 
 stretched out with both of his. 
 
 " I'm right glad you're back again, Squire," he 
 said, looking at him with curious intentness, " and 
 3''et the words of welcome stick in my throat." 
 
 " Sorry you feel like that about it, Middlcton," 
 Domine}^ said pleasantly. " What is the trouble 
 about m^' coming back, eh.'' " 
 
 " That's no trouble. Squire," the old man replied. 
 " That's a joy — leastways to us. It's what it may 
 turn out to be for j^ou which makes one hold back 
 like." 
 
 Dominey drew himself more than ever erect — a 
 commanding figure in the little group. 
 
 " You will feel better about it when we have had 
 a day or two with the pheasants, JNIiddleton," he said 
 reassuringly. " You have not changed much, Lovey- 
 bond," he added, turning to the man who had fallen 
 a little into the background, very stiff and uncom- 
 fortable in his Sunday clothes. 
 
 " I thankee, Squire," the latter replied a little 
 awkwardly, with a motion of his hand towards his 
 forehead. " I can't say the same for you, sir. 
 Them furrin parts has filled j'ou out and hardened 
 you. I'll take the liberty of saying that I should 
 never have recognised 3'ou, sir, and that's sure."
 
 94 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " This is Parkins," Mr. ^Nlangan went on, pushing 
 his way once more into the foreground, " the butler 
 whom I engaged in London. And — " 
 
 There was a queer and instantaneous silence. The 
 little group of maidservants, who had been exchang- 
 ing whispered confidences as to their new master's 
 appearance, were suddenly dumb. All eyes were 
 turned in one direction. A woman whose advent had 
 been unperceived, but who had evidently issued from 
 one of the recesses of the hall, stood suddenly before 
 them all. She was as thin as a lath, dressed in severe 
 black, with grey hair brushed back from her head and 
 not even a white collar at her neck. Her face was 
 long and narrow, her features curiously large, her 
 eyes filled with anger. She spoke very slowly, but 
 with some trace in her intonation of a north-country 
 dialect. 
 
 " There's no place in this house for you. Everard 
 Dominey," she said, standing in front ot him as 
 though to bar his progress. " I wrote last night to 
 stop you, but you've shown indecent haste in com- 
 ing. There's no place here for a murderer. Get 
 back where you came from, back to your hiding." 
 
 " My good woman ! " Mangan gasped. " This is 
 really too much ! " 
 
 " I've not come to bandy words with lawyers," the 
 woman retorted. " I've come to speak to him. Can 
 you face me, Everard Dominey, you who murdered 
 my son and made a madwoman of your wife.f^ " 
 
 The lawyer would have answered her, but Dominey 
 waved him on one side. 
 
 " Mrs. Unthank," he said sternly, " return to your
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 95 
 
 duties at once, and understand that this house is 
 mine, to enter or leave when I choose." 
 
 She was speechless for a moment, amazed at the 
 firmness of his words. 
 
 " The house may be yours, Sir Everard Dominey," 
 she said threateningly, " but there's one part of 
 it at least in which you won't dare to show your- 
 self." 
 
 " You forget yourself, woman," he replied coldly. 
 " Be so good as to return to your mistress at once, 
 announce my coming, and say that I wait only for 
 her permission before presenting myself in her apart- 
 ments." 
 
 The woman laughed, unpleasantly, horriblj^ Her 
 eyes were fixed upon Dominey curiously. 
 
 " Those are brave words," she said. " You've 
 come back a harder man. Let me look at you." 
 
 She moved a foot or two to where the light was 
 better. Very slowly a frown developed upon her fore- 
 head. The longer she looked, the less assured she 
 became. 
 
 " There are things in your face I miss," she mut- 
 tered. 
 
 Mr. Mangan was glad of an opportunity of as- 
 serting himself. 
 
 " The fact is scarcely important, Mrs. Unthank," 
 he said angrily. " If you will allow me to give you 
 a word of advice, you will treat your master with the 
 respect to which his position here entitles him." 
 
 Once more the woman blazed up. 
 
 " Respect ! What respect have I for the murderer 
 of my son.'' Respect ! Well, if he stays here against
 
 96 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 m}^ bidding, perhaps her ladyship will show him what 
 respect means." 
 
 She turned around and disappeared. Every one 
 began bustling about the luggage and talking at 
 once. Mr. Mangan took his patron's arm and led 
 him across the hall. 
 
 " My dear Sir Everard," he said anxiously, " I am 
 most distressed that this should have occurred. I 
 thought that the woman would probably be sullen, but 
 I had no idea that she would dare to attempt such an 
 outrageous proceeding." 
 
 " She is still, I presume, the only companion whom 
 Lady Dominey will tolerate.'' " Dominey enquired with 
 a sigh. 
 
 " I fear so," the law3^er admitted. " Nevertheless 
 we must see Doctor Harrison in the morning. It 
 must be understood distinctly that if she is suffered 
 to remain, she adopts an entirely different attitude. 
 I never heard anything so preposterous in all my 
 life. I shall pay her a visit myself after dinner. — 
 You will feel quite at home here in the library. Sir 
 Everard," Mr. Mangan went on, throwing open the 
 door of a very fine apartment on the seaward side of 
 the house. " Grand view from these windows, espe- 
 cially since we've had a few of the trees cut down. I 
 see that Parkins has set out the sherry. Cocktails, 
 I'm afraid, are an institution you will have to inaugu- 
 rate down here. You'll be grateful to me when I tell 
 you one thing, Sir Everard. We've been hard 
 pressed more than once, but we haven't sold a single 
 bottle of wine out of the cellars." 
 
 Dominey accepted the glass of sherry which the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 97 
 
 lawyer had poured out but made no movement to- 
 wards drinking it. He seemed during the last few 
 minutes to have been wrapped in a brown study. 
 
 " Mangan," he asked a little abuptly, " is it the 
 popular belief down here that I killed Roger Un- 
 thank? " 
 
 The lawyer set down the decanter and coughed. 
 
 " A plain answer," Dominey insisted. 
 
 Mr. Mangan adapted himself to the situation. He 
 was beginning to understand his client, 
 
 " I am perfectly certain, Sir Everard," he con- 
 fessed, " that there isn't a soul in these parts who 
 isn't convinced of it. They believe that there was a 
 fight and that you had the best of it." 
 
 " Forgive me," Dominey continued, " if I seem to 
 ask unnecessary questions. Remember that I spent 
 the first portion of my exile in Africa in a very deter- 
 mined eflfort to blot out the memory of everything 
 that had happened to me earlier in life. So that is 
 the popular belief? " 
 
 " The popular belief seems to march fairly well 
 with the facts," ]Mr. Mangan declared, wielding the 
 decanter again in view of his client's more reasonable 
 manner. " At the time ot your unfortunate visit to 
 the Hall Miss Felbrigg was living practically alone 
 at the Vicarage after her uncle's sudden death there, 
 Avith Mrs. Unthank as housekeeper. Roger Un- 
 thank's infatuation for her was patent to the whole 
 neighbourhood and a source of great annoyance to 
 INIiss Felbrigg. I am convinced that at no time did 
 Lady Dominey give the 3'oung man the slightest en- 
 couragement."
 
 98 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Has any one ever believed the contrary? " Domi- 
 ney demanded. 
 
 " Not a soul," was the emphatic reply. " Never- 
 theless, when you came down, fell in love with Miss 
 Felbrigg and carried her off, every one felt that there 
 would be trouble." 
 
 " Roger Unthank was a lunatic," Dominey pro- 
 nounced deliberately. " His behaviour from the first 
 was the behaviour of a madman." 
 
 " The Eugene Aram type of village schoolmaster 
 gradually drifting into positive insanity," Mangan 
 acquiesced. " So far, every one is agreed. The 
 mystery began when he came back from his holidays 
 and heard the news." 
 
 " The sequel was perfectly simple," Dominey ob- 
 served. " We met at the north end of the Black 
 Wood one evening, and he attacked me like a mad- 
 man. I suppose I had to some extent the best of it, 
 but when I got back to the Hall my arm was broken, 
 I was covered with blood, and half unconscious. By 
 some cruel stroke of fortune, almost the first person I 
 saw was Lady Dominey. The shock was too much 
 for her — she fainted and — " 
 
 " And has never been qui e herself since," the law- 
 yer concluded. " Most tragic ! " 
 
 " The cruel part of it was," Dominey went on, 
 standing before the window, his hands clasped behind 
 his back, " that my wife from that moment developed 
 a homicidal mania against me — I, who had fought 
 in the most absolute self-defence. That was what 
 drove me out of the country, Mangan — not the fear 
 of being arrested for having caused the death of
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 99 
 
 Roger Unthank. I'd have stood my trial for that at 
 any moment. It was the other thing that broke me 
 up'" 
 
 " Quite so," Mangan murmured S3^mpathetically. 
 " As a matter of fact, you were perfectly safe from 
 arrest, as it happened. The body of Roger Unthank 
 has never been found from that day to this." 
 
 " If it had — " 
 
 " You must have been charged with either murder 
 or manslaughter." 
 
 Dominey abandoned his post at the window and 
 raised his glass of sherry to his lips. The tragical 
 side of these reminiscences seemed, so far as he was 
 concerned, to liave passed. 
 
 " I suppose," he remarked, " it was the disappear- 
 ance of the body which has given rise to all this talk 
 as to his spirit still inhabiting the Black Wood." 
 
 " Without a doubt," the lawyer acquiesced. " The 
 place had a bad name already, as you know. As it is, 
 I don't suppose there's a villager here would cross the 
 park in that direction after dark." 
 
 Dominey glanced at his watch and led the way from 
 the room. 
 
 " After dinner," he promised, " I'll tell you a few 
 West African superstitions which will make our local 
 one seem anaemic."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " I certainly offer you my heartiest congratula- 
 tions upon your cellars, Sir Everard," his guest said, 
 as he sipped his third glass of port that evening. 
 " This is the finest glass of seventy I've drunk for 
 a long time, and this new fellow I've sent you down — 
 Parkins — tells me there's any quantity of it." 
 
 " It has had a pretty long rest," Dominey observed. 
 
 " I was looking through the cellar-book before 
 dinner," the lawyer went on, " and I see that you still 
 have forty-seven and forty-eight, and a small quan- 
 tity of two older vintages. Something ought to be 
 done about those." 
 
 " We will try one of them to-morrow night," Domi- 
 ney suggested. " We might spend half an hour or so 
 in the cellars, if we have any time to spare." 
 
 " And another half an hour," J\Ir. Mangan said 
 gravely, " I should like to spend in interviewing Mrs. 
 Unthank. Apart from any other question, I do not 
 for one moment believe that she is the proper person 
 to be entrusted with the care of Lady Dominey. I 
 made up my mind to speak to 3'ou on this subject, Sir 
 Everard, as soon as we had arrived here." 
 
 " Mrs. Unthank was old Mr. Felbrigg's house- 
 keeper and my wife's nurse when she was a child," 
 Dominey reminded his companion. " Whatever her
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION loi 
 
 faults may be, I believe she is devoted to Lady Dom- 
 iney." 
 
 " She may be devoted to your wife," the lawyer ad- 
 mitted, " but I am convinced that she is your enemy. 
 The situation doesn't seem to me to be consistent. 
 Mrs. Unthank is firmly convinced that, whether in fair 
 fight or not, you killed her son. Lady Dominey be- 
 lieves that, too, and it was the sight of you after the 
 fight that sent her insane. I cannot but believe that 
 it would be far better for Lady Dominey to have 
 some one with her unconnected with this unfortunate 
 chapter of your past." 
 
 " We will consult Doctor Harrison to-morrow," 
 Dominey said. " I am very glad you came down with 
 me, Mangan," he went on, after a minute's hesitation. 
 " I find it very difficult to get back into the atmos- 
 pliere of those days. I even find it hard sometimes," 
 he added, with a curious little glance across the table, 
 " to believe that I am the same man." 
 
 " Not so hard as I have done more than once," Mr. 
 Mangan confessed. 
 
 " Tell me exactly in what respects you consider me 
 changed? " Dominey insisted. 
 
 The lawyer hesitated. 
 
 " You seem to have lost a certain pliability, or per- 
 haps I ought to call it looseness of disposition," he 
 admitted. " There are many things connected with 
 the past which I find it almost impossible to associate 
 with you. For a trifling instance," he went on, with 
 a slight smile, inclining his head towards his host's 
 untasted glass. "You don't drink port like any 
 Dominey I ever knew."
 
 102 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 *' I'm afraid that I never acquired the taste for 
 port," Dominey observed. 
 
 The lawA^er gazed at him with raised eyebrows. 
 
 " Not acquired the taste for port ? " he repeated 
 blankly. 
 
 " I should have said reacquired," Dominey hastened 
 to explain. " You see, in the bush we drank a simply 
 frightful amount of spirits, and that vitiates the taste 
 for all wine." 
 
 The law3'er glanced enviously at his host's fine 
 bronzed complexion and clear eyes. 
 
 " You haven't the appearance of ever having drunk 
 anything. Sir Evcrard," he observed frankly. " One 
 finds it hard to believe the stories that were going 
 about ten or fifteen years ago." 
 
 " The Dominey constitution, I suppose ! " 
 
 The new butler entered the room noiselessly and 
 came to his master's chair. 
 
 " I have served coffee in the library, sir," he an- 
 nounced. " Mr. Middleton, the gamekeeper, has just 
 called, and asks if he could have a word with you be- 
 fore he goes to bed to-night, sir. He seems in a very 
 nervous and uneasy state." 
 
 " He can come to the library at once," Dominey 
 directed ; " that is, if you are ready for 3^our coff'ee, 
 Mangan." 
 
 " Indeed I am," the lawyer assented, rising. " A 
 great treat, that wine. One thing the London res- 
 taurants can't give us. Port should never be drunk 
 away from the place where it was laid down." 
 
 The two men made their way across the very fine 
 hall, the walls of which had suflTered a little through
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 103 
 
 lack of heating, into the library, and seated them- 
 selves in easy-chairs before the blazing log fire. Par- 
 kins silently sen-ed them with coffee and brandy. He 
 had scarcely left the room before there was a timid 
 knock and Middleton made his somewhat hesitating 
 entrance. 
 
 " Come in and close the door," Dominey directed. 
 " What is it, Middleton ? Parkins says you wish to 
 speak to me." 
 
 The man came hesitatingly forward. He was ob- 
 viously distressed and uneasy, and found speech diffi- 
 cult. His face glistened with the rain which had 
 found its way, too, in long streaks down his velveteen 
 coat. His white hair was wind-tossed and disar- 
 ranged. 
 
 " Bad night," Domine}' remarked. 
 
 " It's to save its being a worse one that I'm here, 
 Squire," the old man replied hoarsely. " I've come to 
 ask you a favour and to beg you to grant it for your 
 own sake. You'll not sleep in the oak room to- 
 night?" 
 
 " And why not.-^ " Dominey asked. 
 
 " It's next her ladyship's." 
 
 "Well.?" 
 
 The old man was obviously perturbed, but his 
 master, as though of a purpose, refused to help him. 
 He glanced at Mangan and mumbled to himself. 
 
 " Say exactl}' what you wish to, Middleton," Domi- 
 ney invited. " Mr. Mangan and his father and 
 grandfather have been solicitors to the estate for a 
 great many years. They know all our family his- 
 tory."
 
 104 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I can't get rightly into touch with 3'OU, Squire, 
 and that's a fact," Middleton went on despairingly. 
 " The shape of you seems larger and your voice 
 harder. I don't seem to be so near to you as I'd 
 wished, to say what's in my heart." 
 
 " I have had a rough time, ^Middleton," Dominey 
 reminded him. " No wonder I have changed ! Never 
 mind, speak to me just as man to man." 
 
 " It was I who first met you, Squire," the old man 
 went on, " when you tottered home that night across 
 the park, with your arm hanging helplessly by your 
 side, and the blood streaming down your face and 
 clothes, and the red light in your eyes — murderous 
 fire, they called it. I heard her ladyship go into 
 hysterics. I saw her laugh and sob like a maniac, 
 and, God help us ! that's what she's been ever 
 since." 
 
 The two men were silent. Middleton had raised his 
 voice, speaking with fierce excitement. It was obvi- 
 ous that he had only paused for breath. He had 
 more to say. 
 
 " I was by your side, Squire," he went on, " when 
 her ladyship caught up the knife and ran at you, 
 and, as you well know, it was I, seizing her from be- 
 hind, that saved a double tragedy that night, and it 
 was I who went for the doctor the next morning, when 
 she'd stolen into your room in the night and missed 
 your throat by a bare inch. I heard her call to you, 
 heard her threat. It was a madwoman's threat, 
 Squire, but her ladyship is a madwoman at this mo- 
 ment, and with a knife in her hand ^^ou'll never be safe 
 in this house."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 105 
 
 " We must see," Domine}' said quietly, " that she is 
 not allowed to get possession of any weapon." 
 
 " Aye ! Make sure of that," ^liddleton scoffed, 
 " with Mother Unthank by her side ! Her ladyship's 
 mad because of the horror of that night, but Mother 
 Unthank is mad with hate, and there isn't a week 
 passes," the old man went on, his voice dropping 
 lower and his eyes burning, " that Roger Unthank's 
 spirit doesn't come and howl for your blood beneath 
 their window. If you stay here this night. Squire, 
 come over and sleep in the little room they've got 
 ready for 3'ou on the other side of the house." 
 
 Mr. Mangan had lost his smooth, after-dinner ap- 
 pearance. His face was distinctly pale, his smoothly 
 brushed hair was rumpled, and his coffee was growing 
 cold. This was a very different thing from the vague 
 letters and rumours which had reached him from time 
 to time and which he had put out of his mind with all 
 the contempt of the materialist. 
 
 " It is very good of you to warn me, ]\Iiddleton," 
 Dominey said, " but I can lock my door, can I not.'' " 
 
 " Lock the door of the oak room ! " was the scorn- 
 ful reph\ "And what good would that do? You 
 know well enough that the wall's double on three sides, 
 and there are more secret entrances than even I know 
 of. The oak room's not for you this night, Squire. 
 It's hoping to get you there that's keeping them 
 quiet." 
 
 " Tell us what you meant, Middlcton," the lawj-er 
 asked, with ill-assumed indifference, " when you spoke 
 of the howling of Roger Unthank's spirit.'' " 
 
 The old man turned patiently around.
 
 io6 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Just that, sir," he replied. " It's round the 
 house most weeks. Except for me odd nights, and 
 Mrs. Unthank, there's been scarcely a servant would 
 sleep in the Hall for years. Some of the maids they 
 do come up from the village, but back they go before 
 nightfall, and until morning there isn't a living soul 
 would cross the park — no, not for a hundred 
 pounds." 
 
 " A howl, you call it.'' " Mr. Mangan observed. 
 
 " That's mostly like a dog what's hurt itself," 
 Middleton explained equably, " like a dog, that is, 
 with a touch of the human in its tliroat, as we've all 
 heard in our time, sir. You'll hear it yourself, sir, 
 maybe to-night or to-morrow night." 
 
 "You've heard it then, Middleton.'^" his master 
 asked. 
 
 " Why, surely, sir," the old man replied in surprise. 
 " Most weeks for the last ten years." 
 
 " Haven't you ever got up and gone out to see 
 what it was.'' " 
 
 The old man shook his head. 
 
 " But I knew right well what that was, sir," he said, 
 " and I'm not one for looking on spirits. Spirits 
 there are that walk this world, as we well know, and 
 the spirit of Roger Unthank walks from between the 
 Black Wood and these windows, come every week of 
 the year. But I'm not for looking at him. There's 
 evil comes of that. I turn over in my bed, and I stc p 
 my ears, but I've never yet raised a blind." 
 
 " Tell me, Middleton," Dominey asked, " is Lady 
 Domine}'^ terrified at these — er — visitations? " 
 
 " That I can't rightly say, sir. Her ladyship's
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 107 
 
 always sweet and gentle, with kind words on her lips 
 for every one, but there's the terror there in her eyes 
 that was lit that night when 3'ou staggered into the 
 hall, Squire, and I've never seen it properly quenched 
 yet, so to speak. She carries fear with her, but 
 whether it's the fear of seeing you again, or the fear 
 of Roger Unthank's spirit, I could not tell." 
 
 Dominey seemed suddenly to become possessed of a 
 strange desire to thrust the whole subject away. He 
 dismissed the old man kindly but a little abruptly, 
 accompanying him to the corridor which led to the 
 servants' quarters and talking all the time about the 
 pheasants. When he returned, he found that his 
 guest had emptied his second glass of brandy and 
 was surreptitiously mopping his forehead. 
 
 " That," the latter remarked, " is the class of old 
 retainer who lives too long. If I were a Dominey of 
 the Middle Ages, I think a stone around his neck and 
 the deepest well would be the sensible way of dealing 
 with him. He made me feel positively uncomfort- 
 able." 
 
 " I noticed it," Dominey remarked, with a faint 
 smile. " I'm not going to pretend that it was a pleas- 
 ant conversation myself." 
 
 " I've heard some ghost stories," Mangan went on, 
 " but a spook that comes and howls once a week for 
 ten years takes some beating." 
 
 Dominey poured himself out a glass of brandy with 
 a steady hand. 
 
 " You've been neglecting things here, Mangan," he 
 complained. " You ought to have come down and 
 exorcised that ghost. We shall have those smart
 
 io8 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 maidservants of yours off to-morrow, I suppose, un- 
 less you and I can get a little ghost-laying in first." 
 
 Mr. Mangan began to feel more comfortable. The 
 brandy and the warmth of the burning logs were 
 creeping into his system. 
 
 " By the by, Sir Everard," he enquired, a little 
 later on, " where are you going to sleep to-night.'' " 
 
 Doraincy stretched himself out composedly. 
 
 " There is obviously onlv one place for me," he re- 
 plied. " I can't disappoint any one. I shall sleep in 
 the oak room."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 For the first few tangled moments of nightmare, 
 slowly developing into a live horror, Dominey fancied 
 himself back in Africa, with the hand of an enemy 
 upon his throat. Then a rush of awakened mem- 
 ories — the silence of the great house, the mysterious 
 rustling of the heav3^ hangings around the black oak 
 four-poster on which he lay, the faint pricking of 
 something deadh' at his throat — these things rolled 
 back the curtain of unreality, brought him acute and 
 painful consciousness of a situation almost appalling. 
 He opened his eyes, and although a brave and cal- 
 lous man he lay still, paralysed with the fear which 
 forbids motion. The dim light of a candle, recentlj' 
 lit, flashed upon the bodkin-like dagger held at his 
 throat. He gazed at the thin line of gleaming steel, 
 fascinated. Already his skin had been broken, a few 
 drops of blood were upon the collar of his pyjamas. 
 The hand which held that deadly, assailing weapon — 
 small, slim, very feminine, curving from somewhere 
 behind the bed curtain — belonged to some unseen 
 person. He tried to shrink farther back upon the 
 pillow. The hand followed him, displa3'ing glimpses 
 now of a soft, white-sleeved arm. He lay quite still, 
 the muscles of his right arm growing tenser as he
 
 no THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 prepared for a snatch at those cruel fingers. Then a 
 voice came, — a slow, feminine and rather wonderful 
 voice. 
 
 " If you move," it said, " you will die. Remain 
 quite still." 
 
 Dominey was fully conscious now, his brain at 
 work, calculating his chances with all the cunning of 
 the trained hunter who seeks to avoid death. Reluct- 
 antly he was compelled to realise that no movement 
 of his could be quick enough to prevent the driving of 
 that thin stiletto into his throat, if his hidden assail- 
 ant should keep her word. So he lay still. 
 
 " Why do you want to kill me.'' " he asked, a little 
 tensely. 
 
 There was no reply, yet somehow he knew that he 
 was being watched. Ever so slightly those curtains 
 around which the arm had come, were being parted. 
 Through the chink sxime one was looking at him. The 
 thought came that he might call out for help, and 
 once more his unseen enemy read his thought. 
 
 " You must be very quiet," the voice said, — that 
 voice which it was difficult for him to believe was not 
 the voice of a child. " If you even speak above a 
 whisper, it will be the end. I wish to look at you." 
 
 A little wider the crack opened, and then he began 
 to feel hope. The hand which held the stiletto was 
 shaking, he heard something which sounded like quick 
 breathing from behind the curtains — the breathing 
 of a woman astonished or terrified — and then, so 
 suddenly that for several seconds he could not move 
 or take advantage of the circumstance, the hand with 
 its cruel weapon was withdrawn around the curtain
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION iii 
 
 and a woman began to laugh, softly at first, and then 
 with a little hysterical sob thrusting its way through 
 that incongruous note of mirth. 
 
 He lay upon the bed as though mesmerised, finding 
 at his first effort that his limbs refused their office, as 
 might the limbs of one lying under the thrall of a 
 nightmare. The laugh died away, there was a sound 
 like a scraping upon the wall, the candle was suddenly 
 blown out. Then his nerve began to return and with 
 it his control over his limbs. He crawled to the side 
 of the bed remote from the curtains, stole to the little 
 table on which he had left his revolver and an electric 
 torch, snatched at them, and, with the former in his 
 right hand, flashed a little orb of light into the shad- 
 ows of the great apartment. Once more something 
 like terror seized him. The figure which had been 
 standing by the side of his bed had vanished. There 
 was no hiding place in view. Every inch of the room 
 was lit up by the powerful torch he carried, and, save 
 for himself, the room was empty. The first moment 
 of realisation was chill and unnerving. Then the 
 slight smarting of the wound at his throat became 
 convincing proof to him that there was nothing super- 
 natural about this visit. He lit up half-a-dozen of 
 the candles distributed about the place and laid down 
 his torch. He was ashamed to find that his forehead 
 was dripping with perspiration. 
 
 " One of the secret passages, of course," he mut- 
 tered to himself, stooping for a moment to examine 
 the locked, folding doors which separated his room 
 from the adjoining one. "Perhaps, when one re- 
 flects, I have run unnecessary risks."
 
 112 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Domine^' was standing at the Avindow, looking out 
 at the tumbled grey waters of the North Sea, when 
 Parkins brought him hot water and tea in the morn- 
 ing. He thrust his feet into slippers and held out 
 his arms for a dressing-gown. 
 
 " Find out where the nearest bathroom is, Par- 
 kins," he ordered, " and prepare it. I have quite 
 forgotten my wha' about here." 
 
 " Very good, sir." 
 
 The man was motionless for a moment, staring 
 at the blood on his master's pyjamas. Dominey 
 glanced down at it and turned the dressing-gown up 
 to his throat. 
 
 " I had a slight accident this morning," he 
 remarked carelessly. " Any ghost alarms last 
 night .^ " 
 
 " None that I heard of, sir," the man replied. " I 
 am afraid we should have difficulty in keeping the 
 young women from London, if they heard what I 
 heard the night of my arrival." 
 
 " Very terrible, was it ? " Dominey asked with a 
 smile. 
 
 Parkins' expression remained immovable. There 
 was in his tone, however, a mute protest against his 
 master's levity. 
 
 " The cries were the most terrible I have ever heard, 
 sir," he said. " I am not a nervous person, but I 
 found them most disturbing." 
 
 " Human or animal? " 
 
 " A mixture of both, I should say, sir." 
 
 " You should camp out for the night on the skirts 
 of an African forest," Dominey remarked. " There
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 113 
 
 3'ou get a whole orchestra of wild animals, every one 
 of them trying to freeze your blood up." 
 
 " I was out in South Africa during the Boer War, 
 sir," Parkins replied, " and I went big game hunting 
 with m}^ master afterwards. I do not think that any 
 animal was ever born in Africa with so terrifying a 
 cry as we heard the night before last." 
 
 " We must look into the matter," Dominey mut- 
 tered. 
 
 " I have already prepared a bath, sir, at the end of 
 the corridor," the man announced. " If 3^ou will 
 allow me, I will show you the way." 
 
 Domine}^, when he descended about an hour later, 
 found his guest awaiting him in a smaller dining- 
 room, which looked out eastwards towards the sea, a 
 lofty apartment with great windows and with an air 
 of faded splendour which came from the ill-cared-for 
 tapestries, hanging in places from the wall. Mr. 
 Mangan had, contrary to his expectations, slept well 
 and was in excellent spirits. The row of silver dishes 
 upon the sideboard inspired him with an added cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 " So there were no ghosts walking last night, eh.^^ " 
 he remarked, as he took his place at the table. 
 " Wonderful thing this absolute quiet is after Lon- 
 don. Give you my word, I never heard a sound from 
 the moment my head touched the pillow until I woke a 
 short while ago." 
 
 Dominey returned from the sideboard, carrying 
 also a well-filled plate. 
 
 " I had a pretty useful night's rest mj^self," he 
 observed.
 
 114 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Mangan raised his eyeglass and gazed at his host's 
 throat. 
 
 " Cut yourself, eh? " he queried. 
 
 " Razor slipped," Dominey told him. " You get 
 out of the use of those things in Africa." 
 
 " You've managed to give yourself a nasty gash," 
 Mr. Mangan observed curiously. 
 
 " Parkins is going to send up for a new set of 
 safet}' razors for me," Dominey announced. " About 
 our plans for the day, — I've ordered the car for two- 
 thirty this afternoon, if that suits you. We can look 
 around the place quietly this morning. Mr. Johnson 
 is sleeping over at a farmhouse near here. We shall 
 pick him up en route. And I have told Lees, the bail- 
 iff, to come with us too." 
 
 Mr. Mangan nodded his approval. 
 
 " Upon my word," he confessed, " it will be a joy 
 to me to go and see some of these fellows without 
 having to put 'em off about repairs and that sort of 
 thing. Johnson has had the worst of it, poor chap, 
 but there are one or two of them took it into their 
 heads to come up to London and worry me at the 
 office." 
 
 " I intend that there shall be no more dissatisfac- 
 tion amongst my tenants." 
 
 Mr. Mangan set off for another prowl towards the 
 sideboard. 
 
 " Satisfied tenants you never will get in Norfolk," 
 he declared. " I must admit, though, that some of 
 them have had cause to grumble lately. There's a 
 fellow round by Wells who farms nearly eight hun- 
 dred acres — "
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 115 
 
 He broke off in his speech. There was a knock at 
 the door, not an ordinary knock at all, but a meas- 
 ured, deliberate tapping, three times repeated. 
 
 " Come in," Dominey called out. 
 
 Mrs. Unthank entered, severer, more unattractive 
 than ever in the hard morning light. She came to 
 the end of the table, facing the place where Dominey 
 was seated. 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Unthank," he said. 
 
 She ignored his greeting. 
 
 " I am the bearer of a message," she announced. 
 
 " Pray deliver it," Dominey replied. 
 
 " Her ladjship would be glad for you to visit her 
 in her apartment at once." 
 
 Dominey leaned back in his chair. His eyes were 
 fixed upon the face of the woman whose antagonism to 
 himself was so apparent. She stood in the path of a 
 long gleam of morning sunlight. The wrinkles in 
 her face, her hard mouth, her cold, steely e^'es were 
 all clearh' revealed. 
 
 " I am not at all sure," he said, with a purpose in 
 his words, " that any further meeting between Lady 
 Dominey and myself is at present desirable." 
 
 If he had thought to disturb this messenger by his 
 suggestion, he was disappointed. 
 
 " Her ladyship desires me to assure you," she 
 added, with a note of contempt in her tone, " that 
 you need be under no apprehension." 
 
 Dominey admitted defeat and poured himself out 
 some more coffee. Neither of the two noticed that 
 his fingers were trembling. 
 
 " Her ladyship is very considerate," he said.
 
 ii6 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Kindly say that I shall follow you in a few min- 
 utes." 
 
 Dominey, following within a very few minutes of his 
 summons, was ushered into an apartment large and 
 sombrely elegant, an apartment of faded white and 
 gold walls, of chandeliers glittering with lustres, of 
 Louis Quinzc furniture, shabby but priceless. To his 
 surprise, although he scarcely noticed it at the time, 
 Mrs. Unthank promptly disappeared. He was from 
 the first left alone with the woman whom he had come 
 to visit. 
 
 She was sitting up on her couch and watching his 
 approach. A woman? SureW only a child, with 
 pale cheeks, large, anxious eyes, and masses of brown 
 hair brushed back from her forehead. After all, was 
 he indeed a strong man, vowed to great things? 
 There was a queer feeling in his throat, almost a mist 
 before his c^es. She seemed so fragile, so utterly, 
 sweetly pathetic. And all the time there was the 
 strange light, or was it want of light, in those haunt- 
 ing eyes. His speech of greeting was never spoken. 
 
 *' So you have come to see me, Everard," she said, 
 in a broken tone. " You are very brave." 
 
 He possessed himself of her hand, the hand which 
 a few hours ago had held a dagger to his throat, and 
 kissed the waxenlike fingers. It fell to her side like a 
 lifeless thing. Then she raised it and began rubbing 
 softly at the place where his lips had fallen. 
 
 " I have come to see you at 3'our bidding," he re- 
 plied, " and for my pleasure." 
 
 " Pleasure ! " she murmured, with a ghastly little 
 smile. " You have learnt to control your words,
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 117 
 
 Everard. You have slept here and 3'ou live. I have 
 broken my word. I wonder why ? " 
 
 " Because," he pleaded, " I have not deserved that 
 you should seek my life." 
 
 " That sounds strangely," she reflected. " Doesn't 
 it say somewhere in the Bible — 'A life for a life'? 
 You killed Roger Unthank." 
 
 " I have killed other men since in self-defence," 
 Dominey told her. " Sometimes it comes to a man 
 that he must slay or be slain. It was Roger Un- 
 thank — " 
 
 " I shall not talk about him any longer," she de- 
 cided quite calmly. " The night before last, his 
 spirit was calling to me below my window. He wants 
 me to go down into Hell and live with him. The very 
 thought is horrible." 
 
 " Come," Dominey said, " we will speak of other 
 things. You must tell me what presents I can buy 
 you. I have come back from Africa rich." 
 
 " Presents.'" 
 
 For a single wonderful moment, hers was the face of 
 a child who has been offered toys. Her smile of an- 
 ticipation was delightful, her eyes had lost that 
 strange vacancy. Then, before he could say another 
 word, it all came back again. 
 
 " Listen to me," she said. " This is important. I 
 have sent for you because I do not understand why, 
 quite suddenly last night, after I had made up my 
 mind, I lost the desire to kill you. It is gone now. 
 I am not sure about myself any longer. Draw your 
 chair nearer to mine. Or no, come to my side, here 
 at the other end of the sofa."
 
 ii8 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 She moved her skirts to make room for him. When 
 he sat down, he felt a strange trembling through all 
 his limbs. 
 
 " Perhaps," she went on, " I shall break my oath. 
 Indeed, I have already broken it. Let me look at 
 you, my husband. It is a strange thing to own after 
 all these years — a husband." 
 
 Dominey felt as though he were breathing an 
 atmosphere of turgid and poisoned sweetness. There 
 was a flavour of unreality about the whole situation, 
 — the room, this child woman, her beauty, her delib- 
 erate, halting speech and the strange things she said. 
 
 " You find me changed ? " he asked. 
 
 " You are very wonderfully changed. You look 
 stronger, you are perhaps better-looking, yet there is 
 something gone from your face which I thought one 
 never lost." 
 
 " You," he said cautiously, " are more beautiful 
 than ever, Rosamund." 
 
 She laughed a little dreariW- 
 
 " Of what use has my beauty been to me, Everard, 
 since you came to my little cottage and loved me and 
 made me love }^ou, and took me away from Dour 
 Roger? Do 3"ou remember the school children used 
 to call him Dour Roger? — But that does not mat- 
 ter. Do 3'ou know, Everard, that since 3'ou left me 
 my feet have not passed outside these gardens? " 
 
 " That can be altered when you wish," he said 
 quickly. " You can \4sit where you Avill. You can 
 have a motor-car, even a house in town. I shall bring 
 some wonderful doctors here, and they will make you 
 quite strong again."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION iig 
 
 Her large eyes were lifted almost piteously to his. 
 
 "But how can I leave here?" she asked plain- 
 tively. " Every week, sometimes of tener, he calls to 
 me. If I went aAvay, his spirit would break loose and 
 follow me. I must be here to wave my hand ; then he 
 goes away." 
 
 Dominey was conscious once more of that strange 
 and most unexpected fit of emotion. He was unrec- 
 ognisable even to himself. Never before in his life 
 had his heart beaten as it was beating now. His eyes, 
 too, were hot. He had travelled around the world in 
 search of new things, only to find them in this strange, 
 faded chamber, side by side with this suffering woman. 
 Nevertheless, he said quietly : 
 
 " We must send you some place where the people 
 are kinder and where life is pleasanter. Perhaps you 
 love music and to see beautiful pictures. I think that 
 we must try and keep you from thinking." 
 
 She sighed in a perplexed fashion. 
 
 " I wish that I could get it out of my blood that I 
 want to kill you. Then you could take me right 
 away. Other married people have lived together and 
 hated each other. Why shouldn't we .'' We may for- 
 get even to hate." 
 
 Dominey staggered to his feet, walked to a window, 
 threw it open and leaned out for a moment. Then 
 he closed it and came back. This new element in the 
 situation had been a shock to him. All the time she 
 was watching him composedly. 
 
 "Well?" she asked, with a strange little smile. 
 "What do you say? Would you like to hold as a 
 wife's the hand which frightened you so last night ? "
 
 I20 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 She held it out to him, soft and warm. Her fingers 
 even returned tlie pressure of his. She looked at him 
 pleasantly, and once more he felt like a man who has 
 wandered into a strange country and has lost his 
 bearings. 
 
 " I want you so much to be happy," he said 
 hoarsely, " but you are not strong yet, Rosamund. 
 We cannot decide anything in a hurry." 
 
 " How surprised you are to find that I am willing 
 to be nice to you! " she murmured. " But why not.-^ 
 You cannot know why I have so suddenly changed my 
 mind about you — ■ and I have changed it. I have 
 seen the truth these few minutes. There is a reason, 
 Everard, why I should not kill you." 
 
 " What is it.P " he demanded. 
 
 She shook her head with all the joy of a child who 
 keeps a secret. 
 
 " You are clever," she said. " I will leave you to 
 find it out. I am excited now, and I want you to go 
 away for a little time. Please send Mrs. Unthank 
 to me." 
 
 The prospect of release was a strange relief, min- 
 gled still more strangely with regret. He lingered 
 over her hand. 
 
 " If you walk in your sleep to-night, then," he 
 begged, " you will leave your dagger behind ? " 
 
 " I have told you," she answered, as though sur- 
 prised, " that I have abandoned my intention. I 
 shall not kill you. Even though I may walk in my 
 sleep — and sometimes the nights are so long — it 
 will not be your death I seek."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Dominey left the room like a man in a dream, de- 
 scended the stairs to his own part of the house, caught 
 up a hat and stick and strode out into the sea mist 
 wiiich was fast enveloping the gardens. There was 
 all the chill of the North Pole in that ice-cold cloud 
 of vapour, but nevertheless his forehead remained 
 hot, his pulses burning. He passed out of the pos- 
 tern gate which led from the walled garden on to a 
 broad marsh, with dikes running here and there, and 
 lapping tongues of sea water creeping in with the tide. 
 He made his way seaward with uncertain steps until 
 he reached a rough and stony road ; here he hesitated 
 for a moment, looked about him, and then turned back 
 at right angles. Soon he came to a little village, a 
 village of ancient cottages, with seasoned, red-brick 
 tiles, trim little patches of garden, a church embow- 
 ered with tall elm trees, a triangular green at the 
 cross-roads. On one side a low, thatched building,—- 
 the Dominey Arms ; on another, an ancient, square, 
 stone house, on which was a brass plate. He went 
 over and read the name, rang the bell, and asked the 
 trim maidservant who answered it, for the doctor. 
 Presentl3'^, a man of youthful middle-age presented 
 himself in the surgery and bowed. Dominey was for 
 a moment at a loss.
 
 122 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I came to see Doctor Harrison," he ventured. 
 
 " Doctor Harrison retired from practice some 
 years ago," was the courteous rejjly. " I am his 
 nephew, Mj name is Stillwell." 
 
 " I understood that Doctor Harrison w-as still in 
 the neighbourhood," Dominey said. " My name is 
 Dominey — Sir Everard Dominey." 
 
 " I guessed as much," the other replied. " My 
 uncle lives with me here, and to tell you the truth he 
 was hoping that you would come and see him. He 
 retains one patient only," Doctor Stillwell added, in 
 a graver tone. " You can image who that would be." 
 
 His caller bowed. " Lady Dominey, I presume." 
 
 The young doctor opened the door and motioned 
 to his guest to precede him. 
 
 " My uncle has his own little apartment on the 
 other side of the house," he said. " You must let me 
 take you to him." 
 
 They moved across the pleasant white stone hall 
 into a small apartment with French windows leading 
 out to a flagged terrace and tennis lawn. An elderly 
 man, broad-shouldered, with weather-beaten face, 
 grey hair, and of somewhat serious aspect, looked 
 around from the window before which he was standing 
 examining a case of fishing flies. 
 
 " Uncle, I have brought an old friend in to see 
 you," his nephew announced. 
 
 The doctor glanced expectantly at Dominey, half 
 moved forward as though to greet him, then checked 
 himself and shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 " You certainly remind me very much of an old 
 friend, sir," he said, " but I can see now that you
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 123 
 
 are not he. I do not believe that I have ever seen you 
 before in my life." 
 
 There was a moment's somewhat tense silence. 
 Then Dominey advanced a little stiffly and held out 
 his hand. 
 
 " Come, Doctor," he said, " I can scarcely have 
 changed as much as all that. Even these years of 
 strenuous life — " 
 
 " You mean to tell me that I am speaking to 
 Everard Dominey? " the doctor interposed. 
 
 " Without a doubt ! " 
 
 The doctor shook hands coolly. His was certainly 
 not the enthusiastic welcome of an old family attend- 
 ant to the representative of a great family. 
 
 " I should certainly never have recognised you," he 
 confessed. 
 
 " My presence here is nevertheless indisputable," 
 Dominey continued. " Still attracted by your old 
 pastime, I see. Doctor? " 
 
 " I have only taken up fly fishing," the other replied 
 drily, " since I gave up shooting." 
 
 There was another somewhat awkward pause, which 
 the younger man endeavoured to bridge over. 
 
 " Fishing, shooting, golf," he said ; " I really don't 
 know what we poor medical practitioners would do 
 in the country without sport." 
 
 " I shall remind you of that later," Dominey ob- 
 served. " I am told that the shooting is one of the 
 only glories which has not passed away from Domi- 
 ney." 
 
 " I shall look forward to the reminder," was the 
 prompt response.
 
 124 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 His uncle, who had been bending once more over 
 the case of flies, turned abruptly around. 
 
 " Arthur," he said, addressing his nephew, " you 
 had better start on your round. I dare say Sir 
 Everard would like to speak to me privately." 
 
 " I wish to speak to you certainly," Dominey ad- 
 mitted, " but only professionally. There is no ne- 
 cessity — " 
 
 " I am late already, if you will excuse mc," Doctor 
 Stillwell interrupted. " I will be getting on. You 
 must excuse my uncle, Sir Everard," he added in a 
 lower tone, drawing him a little towards the door, 
 " if his manners are a little gruff. He is devoted to 
 Lady Dominey, and I sometimes think that he broods 
 over her case too much." 
 
 Dominey nodded and turned back into the room to 
 find the doctor, his hands in his old-fashioned breeches 
 pockets, eying him steadfastly. 
 
 " I find it very hard to believe," he said a little 
 curtly, " that you are really Everard Dominey." 
 
 " I am afraid you will have to accept me as a fact, 
 nevertheless." 
 
 *' Your present appearance," the old man contin- 
 ued, eying him appraisingly, " does not in any way 
 bear out the description I had of you some years ago. 
 I was told that you had become a broken-down 
 drunkard." 
 
 " The world is full of liars," Dominey said equably. 
 " You appear to have met with one, at least." 
 
 " You have not even," the doctor persisted, " the 
 appearance of a man who has been used to excesses of 
 anv sort."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 125 
 
 " Good old stock, ours," his visitor observed care- 
 lessl}'. " Plenty of two-bottle men behind my gen- 
 eration." 
 
 " You have also gained courage since the days 
 when you fled from England. You slept at the Hall 
 last night .^ " 
 
 "Where clse.^ I also, if you want to know, occu- 
 pied my own bedchamber — with results," Dominey 
 added, throwing his head a little back, to display the 
 scar on his throat, " altogether insignificant." 
 
 "That's just your luck," the doctor declared. 
 " You've no right to have gone there without seeing 
 me; no right, after all that has passed, to have even 
 approached your wife." 
 
 " You seem rather a martinet as regards my do- 
 mestic affairs," Dominey observed. 
 
 " That's because I know 3'our history," was the 
 blunt reply. 
 
 Uninvited, Dominey seated himself in an easy- 
 chair. 
 
 " You were never my friend. Doctor," he said. 
 " Let me suggest that we conduct this conversation 
 on a purely professional basis." 
 
 " I was never your friend," came the retort, " be- 
 cause I have known you always as a selfish brute ; be- 
 cause you were married to the sweetest woman on 
 God's earth, gave up none of your bad habits, fright- 
 ened her into insanity by reel in, fr home with another 
 man's blood on your hands, and then stayed away for 
 over ten years instead of making an effort to repair 
 the mischief you had done." 
 
 " This," obsei-A'ed Dominey. " is history, dished up
 
 126 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 in a somewhat partial fashion. I repeat inj'^ sugges- 
 tion that we confine our conversation to the profes- 
 sional." 
 
 " This is my house," the other rejoined, " and you 
 came to see me. I shall say exactly what I like to 
 you, and if you don't like it you can get out. If it 
 weren't for Lady Dominey's sake, you shouldn't have 
 passed this threshold." 
 
 " Then for her sake," Dominey suggested in a 
 softer tone, " can't 3^ou forget how thoroughly you 
 disapprove of me? I am here now Avith only one 
 object: I want you to point out to me any way in 
 which we can work together for the improvement of 
 my wife's health." 
 
 " There can be no question of a partnership be- 
 tween us." 
 
 " You refuse to help ? " 
 
 " My help isn't worth a snap of the fingers. I 
 have done all I can for her physically. She is a per- 
 fectly sound woman. The rest depends upon you, 
 and you alone, and I am not very hopeful about it." 
 
 "Upon me.?" Dominey repeated, a little taken 
 aback. 
 
 " Fidelity," the doctor grunted, " is second nature 
 with all good women. Lady Dominey is a good 
 woman, and she is no exception to the rule. Her 
 brain is star\^ed beoause her heart is aching for love. 
 If she could believe in your repentance and reform, if 
 any atonement for the past were possible and were 
 generously offered, I cannot tell what the result might 
 be. They tell me that you are a rich man now, al- 
 though heaven knows, when one considers what a lazy,
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 127 
 
 selfish fellow you were, that sounds like a miracle. 
 You could have the great specialists down. They 
 couldn't help, but it might salve your conscience to 
 pay tlicm a few hundred guineas." 
 
 "Would you meet them?" Dominey asked anx- 
 iously. " Tell me whom to send for? " 
 
 " Pooh ! Those days are finished with me," was 
 the curt reply. " I would meet none of them. I am 
 a doctor no longer. I have become a villager. I 
 go to see Lady Dominey as an old friend." 
 
 " Give me your advice," Dominey begged. " Is it 
 of any use sending for specialists? " 
 
 " Just for the present, none at all." 
 
 " And what about that horrible woman, Mrs. Un- 
 thank?" 
 
 " Part of your task, if you are really going to take 
 it up. She stands between your wife and the sun." 
 
 " Then why have you suffered her to remain tliere 
 all those years? " Dominey demanded. 
 
 " For one thing, because there has been no one to 
 replace her," the doctor replied, " and for another, 
 because Lady Dominey, believing that you slew her 
 son, has some fantastic idea of giving her a home and 
 shelter as a kind of expiation." 
 
 " You think there is no affection between the two? " 
 Dominey asked. 
 
 " Not a scrap," was the blunt reply, " except that 
 Lady Dominey is of so sweet and gentle a nature — " 
 
 The doctor paused abruptly. His visitor's fingers 
 had strayed across his throat. 
 
 " That's a different matter," the former continued 
 fiercely. " That's just where the weak spot in her
 
 128 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 brain remains. If you ask me, I believe it's pandered 
 to by Mrs. Unthank. Come to think of it," he went 
 on, " the Domineys were never cowards. If you've 
 got your courage back, send Mrs. Unthank away, 
 sleep with your doors wide open. If a single night 
 passes without Lady Dominey coming to your room 
 with a knife in her hand, she will be cured in time of 
 that mania at any rate. Dare you do that.'' " 
 
 Dominey's hesitation was palpable, — also his agi- 
 tation. The doctor grinned contemptuously. 
 
 " Still afraid ! " he scoffed. 
 
 " Not in the way you imagine," his visitor replied. 
 " My wife has already promised to make no further 
 attempt upon my life." 
 
 " Well, you can cure her if you want to," the doc- 
 tor declared, " and if you do, you will have the sweet- 
 est companion for life any man could have. But 
 you'll have to give up the idea of town houses and 
 racing and yachting, and grouse moors in Scotland, 
 and all those sort of things I suppose you've been 
 looking forward to. You'll have for some time, at 
 any rate, to give every moment of your time to your 
 wife." 
 
 Dominey moved uneasily in his chair. 
 
 " For the next few months," he said, " that would 
 be impossible." 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 The doctor repeated the word, seemed to roll it 
 round in his mouth with a sort of wondering scorn. 
 
 " I am not quite the idler I used to be," Dominey 
 explained, frowning. " Nowadays, you cannot make 
 money without assuming responsibilities. I am clear-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 129 
 
 ing off the whole of the mortgages upon the Dominey 
 estates within the next few months." 
 
 " How you spend your time is your affair, not 
 mine," the doctor muttered. " All that I say about 
 the matter is that your wife's cure, if ever it comes to 
 pass, is in your hands. And now — come over to mo 
 here, in the light of this window. I want to look at 
 you." 
 
 Dominey obeyed with a little shrug of the shoul- 
 ders. There was no sunshine, but the white north 
 light was in its way searching. It showed the sprin- 
 kling of grey in his rudd^^-brown hair, the suspicion 
 of it in his closely trimmed moustache, but it could 
 find no weak spot in his steady eyes, in the tan of his 
 hard, manly complexion, or even in the set of his 
 somewhat arrogant lips. The old doctor took up his 
 box of flies again and jerked his head towards the 
 door. 
 
 " You are a miracle," he said, " and I hate mira- 
 cles. I'll come and see Lady Dominey in a day 
 or so."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 Dominej spent a curiously placid, and, to those 
 with whom he was brought into contact, an entirely 
 satisfactory afternoon. With Mr. Mangan by his 
 side, murmuring amiable platitudes, and Mr. Johnson, 
 his agent, opposite, revelling in the unusual situation 
 of a satisfied landlord and delighted tenants, he made 
 practically the entire round of the Dominey estates. 
 They reached home late, but Dominey, although he 
 seemed to be living in another world, was not neglect- 
 ful of the claims of hospitality. Probably for the 
 first time in their lives, Mr. Johnson and Lees, the 
 bailiff, watched the opening of a magnum of cham- 
 pagne. Mr. Johnson cleared his throat as he raised 
 his glass. 
 
 " It isn't only on my own account, Sir Everard," 
 he said, " that I drink your hearty good health. I 
 have your tenants too in my mind. They've had a 
 rough time, some of them, and they've stood it like 
 white men. So here's from them and me to you, sir, 
 and may we see plenty of you in these parts." 
 
 Mr. Lees associated himself with these sentiments, 
 and the glasses were speedily emptied and filled again. 
 
 " I suppose you know. Sir Everard," the agent 
 observed, *' that what you've promised to do to-day 
 will cost a matter of ten to fifteen thousand pounds." 
 
 Dominey nodded.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 131 
 
 *' Before I go to bed to-night," he said, " I shall 
 send a cheque for twenty thousand pounds to the 
 estate account at your bank at Wells. The money 
 is there waiting, put aside for just that one purpose 
 and — well, you may just as well have it." 
 
 Agent and bailiff leaned back in the tonneau of 
 their motor-car, half an hour later, with immense 
 cigars in their mouths and a pleasant, rippling 
 W'armth in their veins. They had the sense of hay- 
 ing drifted into fairyland. Their philosophy, how- 
 ever, met the situation. 
 
 " It's a fair miracle," Mr. Lees declared. 
 
 " A modern romance," Mr. Johnson, who reads 
 novels, murmured. " Hello, here's a visitor for the 
 Hall," he added, as a car swept by them. 
 
 " Comfortable-looking gent, too," Mr. Lees re- 
 marked. 
 
 The " comfortable-looking gent " was Otto Sea- 
 man, who presented himself at the Hall with a small 
 dressing-bag and a great many apologies. 
 
 " Found myself in Norwich, Sir Everard," he ex- 
 plained. " I have done business there all my life, and 
 one of my customers needed looking after. I finished 
 early, and when I found that I was only thirty miles 
 off you, I couldn't resist having a run across. If it 
 is in any way inconvenient to put me up for the night, 
 say so — " 
 
 " ]My dear fellow ! " Dominey interrupted. 
 " There are a score of rooms read}'. All that we 
 need is to light a fire, and an old-fashioned bed- 
 warmer will do the rest. You remember Mr. Man- 
 gan.^"
 
 132 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 The two men shook hands, and Seaman accepted a 
 little refreshment after his drive. He lingered be- 
 hind for a moment after the dressing bell had rung. 
 
 "What time is that fellow going.'' " he asked. 
 
 " Nine o'clock to-morrow morning," Dominey re- 
 plied. 
 
 " Not a word until then," Seaman whispered back. 
 " I must not seem to be hanging after jon too much 
 — I really did not want to come — but the matter is 
 urgent." 
 
 " We can send Mangan to bed early," Domine}^ 
 suggested. 
 
 " I am the early bird myself," was the weary reply. 
 " I was up all last night. To-morrow morning will 
 do." 
 
 Dinner that night was a pleasant and social meal. 
 i\Ir. ]\Iangan especially was uplifted. Everything to 
 do with the Domineys for the last fifteen years had 
 reeked of poverty. He had really had a hard strug- 
 gle to make both ends meet. There had been dis- 
 agreeable interviews with angry tenants, formal inter- 
 views with dissatisfied mortgagees, and remarkably 
 little profit at the end of the year to set against these 
 disagreeable episodes. The new situation was almost 
 beatific. The concluding touch, perhaps, was in Par- 
 kins' congratulatory whisper as he set a couple of 
 decanters upon the table. 
 
 " I have found a bin of Cockburn's -fifty-one, sir," 
 he announced, including the lawyer in his confidential 
 whisper. " I thought you might like to try a couple 
 of bottles, as Mr. Mangan seems rather a connois- 
 seur, sir. The corks appear to be in excellent con- 
 dition."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 133 
 
 " After this," Mr. Mangan sighed, " it will be hard 
 to get back to the austere life of a Pall Mall club ! " 
 
 Seaman, very early in the evening, pleaded an ex- 
 traordinary sleepiness and retired, leaving his host 
 and Mangan alone over the port. Dominey, although 
 an attentive host, seemed still a little abstracted. 
 Even Mr. Mangan, who was not an observant man, 
 was conscious that a certain hardness, almost arro- 
 gance of speech and manner, seemed temporarily to 
 have left his patron. 
 
 " I can't tell you. Sir Everard," he said, as he 
 sipped his first glass of wine, " what a pleasure it is to 
 me to see, as it were, this recrudescence of an old 
 family. If I might be allowed to say so, there's only 
 one thing necessary to round the whole business off, 
 as it were." 
 
 "And that.'' " Dominey asked unthinkingly. 
 
 " The return of Lady Dominey to health. I was 
 one of the few, you may remember, privileged to make 
 her acquaintance at the time of 3'our marriage." 
 
 " I paid a visit this morning," Dominey said, " to 
 the doctor who has been in attendance upon her since 
 her marriage. He agrees with me that there is no 
 reason why Lady Dominey should not, in course of 
 time, be restored to perfect health." 
 
 " I take the liberty of finishing my glass to that 
 hope, Sir Everard," the lawyer murmured. 
 
 Both glasses were set down empty, only the stem of 
 Dominey's was snapped in two. Mr. Mangan ex- 
 pressed his polite regrets. 
 
 " This old glass," he murmured, looking at his own 
 tidmiringly, " becomes very fragile."
 
 134 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Dominey did not answer. His brain had served 
 him a strange trick. In the shadows of the room he 
 had fancied that he could see Stephanie Eiderstrom 
 holding out her arms, calling to him to fulfil the 
 pledges of long ago, and behind her — 
 
 " Have you ever been in love, Mangan.f* " Dominey 
 asked his companion. 
 
 "I, sir.? Well, I'm not sure," the man of the 
 world replied, a little startled by the abruptness of 
 the question. " It's an old-fashioned way of looking 
 at things now, isn't it.^^ " 
 
 Dominey relapsed into thoughtfulness. 
 
 " I suppose so," he admitted. 
 
 That night a storm rolled up from somewhere 
 across that grey waste of waters, a storm heralded 
 by a wind which came booming over the marshes, 
 shaking the latticed windows of Dominey Place, 
 shrieking and wailing amongst its chimneys and 
 around its many corners. Black clouds leaned over 
 the land, and drenching streams of rain dashed 
 against the loose-framed sashes of the windows. 
 Dominey lit the tall candles in his bedroom, fastened 
 a dressing-gown around him, threw himself into an 
 easy-chair, and, fixing an electric reading lamp by his 
 side, tried to read. Very soon the book slipped from 
 his fingers. He became suddenly tense and watchful. 
 His eyes counted one by one the panels in the wall bj 
 the left-hand side of the bed. The familiar click was 
 twice repeated. For a moment a dark space ap- 
 peared. Then a woman, stooping low, glided into
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 135 
 
 the room. She came slowly towards him, drawn like 
 a moth towards that semicircle of candle. Her hair 
 hung down her back like a girl's, and the white dress- 
 ing-gown which floated diaphanously about her was 
 unexpectedly reminiscent of Bond Street. 
 
 "You are not afraid.''" she asked anxiously. 
 " See, I have nothing in my hands. I almost think 
 that the desire has gone. You remember the little 
 stiletto I had last night? To-day I threw it into the 
 well. Mrs. Unthank was very angry with me." 
 
 " I am not afraid," he assured her, " but — " 
 
 "Ah, but you will not scold me.'*" she begged. 
 " It is the storm which terrifies me." 
 
 He dreAv a low chair for her into the little circle of 
 light and arranged some cushions. As she sank into 
 it, she suddenh' looked up at him and smiled, a smile 
 of rare and wonderful beauty. Dominey felt for a 
 moment something like the stab of a knife at his heart. 
 
 " Sit here and rest," he invited. " There is noth- 
 ing to fear." 
 
 " In my heart I know that," she answered simply. 
 " These storms are part of our lives. They come 
 with birth, and they shake the world when death 
 seizes us. One should not be afraid, but I have been 
 so ill, Everard. Shall I call you Everard still.'' " 
 
 "Why not.? "he asked. 
 
 " Because you are not like Everard to me any 
 more," she told him, " because something has gone 
 from you, and something has come to you. You are 
 not the same man. What is it? Had you troubles 
 in Africa? Did you learn what life was like out 
 there?"
 
 136 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 He sat looking at her for a moment, leaning back 
 in his chair, which he had pushed a few feet into the 
 shadows. Her hair was glossy and splendid, and 
 against it her skin seemed whiter and more delicate 
 than ever. Her eyes were lustrous but plaintive, and 
 with something of the child's fear of harm in them. 
 She looked very yourg and very fragile to have been 
 swayed through the j-ears by an evil passion. 
 
 " I learnt many things there, Rosamund," he told 
 her quicth'. " I learnt a little of the difference be- 
 tween right doing and wrongdoing. I learned, too, 
 that all the passions of life burn themselves out, save 
 one alone." 
 
 She twisted the girdle of her dressing-gown in her 
 fingers for a moment. His last speech seemed to have 
 been outside the orbit of her comprehension or inter- 
 eot. 
 
 " You need not be afraid of me any more, Ever- 
 ard," she said, a little pathetically. 
 
 " I have no fear of you," he answered. 
 
 " Then why don't you bring 3'our chair forward 
 and come and sit a little nearer to me? " she asked, 
 raising her eyes. " Do 3'ou hear the wind, how it 
 shrieks at us? Oh, I am afraid!" 
 
 He moved forward to her side, and took her hand 
 gently in his. Her fingers responded at once to his 
 pressure. When he spoke, he scarcely recognised his 
 own voice. It seemed to him thick and choked. 
 
 " The wind shall not hurt vou, or anything else," 
 he promised. " I have come back to take care of 
 
 you." 
 
 She sighed, smiled like a tired child, and her eyes
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 137 
 
 closed as her head fell farther back amongst the 
 cushions. 
 
 " Stay just like that, please," she begged. 
 " Something quite new is coming to me. I am rest- 
 ing. It is the sweetest rest I ever felt. Don't move, 
 Everard. Let my fingers stay in yours — so." 
 
 The candles burned down in their sockets, the wind 
 rose to greater furies, and died away only as the dawn 
 broke through the storm clouds. A pale light stole 
 into the room. Still the woman slept, and still her 
 fingers seemed to keep their clutch upon his hand. 
 Her breathing was all the time soft and regular. 
 Her silky black eyelashes lay motionless upon her pale 
 cheeks. Her mouth — a very perfectly shaped 
 mouth — rested in quiet lines. Somehow he realised 
 that about this slumber there was a new thing. With 
 hot eyes and aching limbs he sat through the night. 
 Dream after dream rose up and passed away before 
 that little background of tapestried wall. When she 
 opened her eyes and looked at him, the same smile 
 parted her lips as the smile which had come there when 
 she had passed away to sleep. 
 
 " I am so rested," she murmured. " I feel so well. 
 I have had dreams, beautiful dreams." 
 
 The fire had burned out, and the room was chilly. 
 
 " You must go back to your own room now," he 
 said. 
 
 Very slowly her fingers relaxed. She held out her 
 arms. 
 
 " Carry me," she begged. " I am only half awake. 
 I want to sleep again." 
 
 He lifted her up. Her fingers closed around his
 
 138 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 neck, her head fell back with a little sigh of content. 
 He tried the folding doors, and, finding some difficultj 
 in opening them, carried her out into the corridor, 
 into her own room, and laid her upon the untouched 
 bed. 
 
 " You are comfortable? " he asked. 
 
 " Quite," she murmured drowsily. " Kiss me, 
 Everard." 
 
 Her hands drew his face down. His lips rested 
 upon her forehead. Then he drew the bedclothes 
 over her and fled.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 There was a cloud on Seaman's good-humoured 
 face as, muffled up in their overcoats, he and his host 
 walked up and down the terrace the next morning, 
 after the departure of Mr. Mangan, He disclosed 
 his mind a little abruptly. 
 
 " In a few minutes," he said, " I shall come to the 
 great purpose of my visit. I have great and won- 
 derful news for you. But it will keep." 
 
 " The time for action has arrived? " Dominey asked 
 curiously. " I hope you will remember that as 3'et I 
 am scarcely established here." 
 
 " It is with regard to your establishment here," 
 Seaman explained dril}^ " that I desire to say a word. 
 We have seen much of one another since we met in 
 Cape Town. The passion and purpose of my life 
 you have been able to judge. Of those interludes 
 which are necessary to a human being, unless his 
 system is to fall to pieces as dry dust, you have also 
 seen something. I trust you will not misunderstand 
 me when I say that apart from the necessities of my 
 work, I am a man of sentiment." 
 
 " I am prepared to admit it," Dominey murmured 
 a little idly. 
 
 " You have undertaken a great enterprise. It was, 
 without a doubt, a miraculous piece of fortune which 
 brought the Englishman, Dominey, to your camp just
 
 140 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 at the moment when you received your orders from 
 headquarters. Your self-conceived plan has met with 
 every encouragement from us. You will be placed in 
 a unique position to achieve your final purpose. Now 
 mark my words and do not misunderstand me. The 
 very keynote of our progress is ruthlessness. To 
 take even a single step forward towards the achieve- 
 ment of that purpose is worth the sacrifice of all the 
 scruples and delicacies conceivable. But when a cer- 
 tain course of action i ; without profit to our purpose, 
 I see ugliness in it. It distresses me." 
 
 " What the devil do you mean ? " Dominey de- 
 manded. 
 
 " I sleep with one ear open," Seaman replied. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I saw you leave your room early this morning," 
 Seaman continued, " carrying Lady Dominey in your 
 arms." 
 
 There were little streaks of pallor underneath the 
 tan in Dominey's face. His eyes were like glittering 
 metal. It was only when he had breathed once or 
 twice quickly that he could command his voice. 
 
 " What concern is this of yours.'' " he demanded. 
 
 Seaman gripped his companion's arm. 
 
 " Look here," he said, " we are too closely allied for 
 bluff". I am here to help you fill the shoes of another 
 man, so far as regards his estates, his position, and 
 character, which, by the by, you are rehabilitating. 
 I will go further. I will admit that it is not my con- 
 cern to interfere in any ordinary amour you might 
 undertake, but — I shall tell you this, my friend, to 
 your face — that to deceive a lady of weak intellects
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 141 
 
 however beautiful, to make use of your position as her 
 supposed husband, is not, save in the vital interests of 
 his country, the action of a Prussian nobleman." 
 
 Dominey's passion seemed to have burned itself out 
 without expression. He showed not the slightest re- 
 sentment at his companion's words. 
 
 " Have no fear. Seaman," he enjoined him. " The 
 situation is delicate, but I can deal with it as a man 
 of honour." 
 
 " You relieve me," Seaman confessed. " You must 
 admit that the spectacle of last night was calculated 
 to inspire me with uneasiness." 
 
 " I respect you for your plain words," Dominey 
 declared. " The fact is, that Lady Dominey was 
 frightened of the storm last night and found her way 
 into my room. You may be sure that I treated her 
 with all the respect and sympathy which our posi- 
 tions demanded," 
 
 " Lady Dominey," Seaman remarked meditatively, 
 " seems to be curiously falsifying certain predic- 
 tions." 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " The common impression in the neighbourhood 
 here is that she is a maniac chiefly upon one subject 
 — her detestation of 3'ou. She has been known to 
 take an oath that you should die if 3'ou slept in this 
 house again. You naturally, being a brave man, 
 ignored all this, yet in the morning after your first 
 night here there was blood upon your night clothes." 
 
 Dominey's eyebrows were slowly raised. 
 
 " You are well served here," he observed, with in- 
 voluntary sarcasm.
 
 142 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " That, for your own sake as well as ours, is neces- 
 sary," was the terse reply. " To continue, people of 
 unsound mind are remarkably tenacious of their 
 ideas. There was certainly nothing of the murderess 
 in her demeanour towards you last night. Cannot 
 you see that a too friendly attitude on her part might 
 become fatal to our schemes? " 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " If ever your identity is doubted," Seaman ex- 
 plained, " the probability of which is, I must confess, 
 becoming less every day, the fact that Lady Dominey 
 seems to have so soon forgotten all her enmity to- 
 wards you would be strong presumptive evidence that 
 you are not the man you claim to be." 
 
 " Ingenious," Dominey assented, " and very possi- 
 ble. All this time, however, we speak on what you 
 yourself admit to be a side issue." 
 
 " You are right," Seaman confessed. " Very well, 
 then, listen. A great moment has arrived for you, 
 my friend." 
 
 " Explain, if you please." 
 
 " I shall do so. You have seen proof, during the 
 last few days, that you have an organisation behind 
 you to whom money is dross. It is the same in diplo- 
 macy as in war. Germany will pay the price for 
 what she intends to achieve. Ninety thousand 
 pounds was yesterday passed to the credit of your 
 account for the extinction of certain mortgages. In 
 a few months' or a few years' time, some distant 
 Dominey will benefit to that extent. We cannot re- 
 cover the money. It is just an item in our day by 
 day expenses."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 143 
 
 ** It was certainly a magnificent way of establish- 
 ing me," Dominey admitted. 
 
 " Magnificent, but safest in the long run," Seaman 
 declared. " If you had returned a poor man, every- 
 body's hand would have been against you ; suspi- 
 cions, now absolutely unkindled, might have been 
 formed ; and, more important, perhaps, than either, 
 you would not have been able to take your place in 
 Society, which is absolutely necessary for the further- 
 ance of our scheme." 
 
 " Is it not almost time," Dominey enquired, " that 
 the way was made a little clearer for me.'' " 
 
 " That would have been my task this morning," 
 Seaman replied, " but for the news I bring. In pass- 
 ing, however, let me promise you this. You will never 
 be asked to stoop to the crooked ways of the ordi- 
 nary spy. We want you for a different purpose." 
 
 "And the news?" 
 
 " What must be the greatest desire in your heart," 
 Seaman said solemnly, " is to be granted. The 
 Kaiser has expressed a desire to see you, to give you 
 his instructions in person." 
 
 Dominey stopped short upon the terrace. He 
 withdrew his arm from his companion's and stared at 
 him blankly. 
 
 " The Kaiser? " he exclaimed. " You mean that I 
 am to go to Germany? " 
 
 " We shall start at once," Seaman replied. " Per- 
 sonally, I do not consider the proceeding discreet or 
 necessary. It has been decided upon, however, with- 
 out consulting me." 
 
 " I consider it suicidal," Dominey protested.
 
 144 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " What explanation can I possibly make for going to 
 Germany, of all countries in the world, before I have 
 had time to settle down here? " 
 
 " That of itself will not be difficult," his companion 
 pointed out. " Many of the mines in which a share 
 has been bought in your name are being run with 
 German capital. It is easy to imagine that a crisis 
 has arisen in the management of one of them. We 
 require the votes of our fellow shareholders. You 
 need not trouble your head about that. And think 
 of the wonder of it ! If only for a single day your 
 sentence of banishment is lifted. You will breathe the 
 air of the Fatherland once more." 
 
 " It will be wonderful," Dominey muttered. 
 
 " It will be for you," Seaman promised, " a breath 
 of the things that are to come. And now, action. 
 How I love action ! That time-table, my friend, and 
 your chauffeur." 
 
 It was arranged that the two men should leave dur- 
 ing the morning for Norwich by motor-car and thence 
 to Harwich. Dominey, having changed into travel- 
 ling clothes, sent a messenger for Mrs. Unthank, 
 who came to him presently in his study. He held 
 out a chair to her, which she declined, however, to 
 take. 
 
 " Mrs. Unthank," he said, " I should like to know 
 wliy you have been content to remain my wife's at- 
 tendant for the last ten years? " 
 
 Mrs. Unthank was startled by the suddenness of 
 the attack. 
 
 " Lady Dominey has needed me," she answered, 
 after a moment's pause.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 145 
 
 " Do you consider," he asked, " that you have been 
 the best possible companion for her? " 
 
 " She has never been willing to accept any other," 
 the woman replied. 
 
 " Are you very devoted to m}'^ wife? " he enquired. 
 
 INIrs. Unthank, grim and fierce though she was and 
 appeared to be, was obviously disconcerted by Domi- 
 ney's line of questions. 
 
 " If I weren't," she demanded, " shouH I have been 
 here all these years ? " 
 
 " I scarcely see," he continued, " what particular 
 claim my wife has had upon you. I understand, 
 moreover, that you are one of those who firmly believe 
 that I killed your son. Is this attendance upon my 
 wife a Christian act, then — the returning of good 
 for evil? " 
 
 " Exactly what do you want to say to me. Sir 
 Everard? " she asked harshly. 
 
 " I wish to say this," Dominey replied, " that I am 
 determined to bring about my wife's restoration to 
 health. For that reason I am going to have special- 
 ists down here, and above all things to change for a 
 time her place of residence. My own feeling is that 
 she will stand a much better chance of recovery with- 
 out your attendance." 
 
 " You would dare to send me away ? " the woman 
 demanded. 
 
 " That is my intention," Dominey confessed. " I 
 have not spoken to Lady Dominey yet, but I hope 
 that very soon my influence over her will be such that 
 she will be content to obey my wishes. I look upon 
 your future from the financial point of view, as my
 
 146 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 care. I shall settle upon you the sum of three hun- 
 dred pounds a year." 
 
 The woman showed her first sign of weakness. She 
 began to shake. There was a curious look of fear in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " I can't leave this place, Sir Everard," she cried. 
 " I must stay here ! " 
 
 "Why?" he demanded. 
 
 " Lady Dominey couldn't do without me," she an- 
 swered sullenly. 
 
 " That," he replied, " is for her to decide. Per- 
 sonally, from enquiries I have made, I believe that j'ou 
 have encouraged in her that ridiculous superstition 
 about the ghost of 3'our son. I also believe that you 
 have kept alive in her that spirit of unreasonable 
 hatred which she has felt towards me." 
 
 "Unreasonable, you call it.''" the woman almost 
 shouted. " You, who came home to her with the 
 blood on your hands of the man whom, if only you had 
 kept away, she might one day have loved? Unrea- 
 sonable, 3^ou call it ? " 
 
 " I have finished what I had to say, Mrs. Unthank," 
 Dominey declared. " I am compelled by important 
 business to leave here for two or three days. On my 
 return I shall embark upon the changes with which 
 I have acquainted you. In the meantime," he added, 
 watching a curious change in the woman's expres- 
 sion, " I have written this morning to Doctor Har- 
 rison, asking him to come up this afternoon and to 
 keep Lady Dominey under his personal observation 
 until my return." 
 
 She stood quite still, looking at him. Then she
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 147 
 
 came a little nearer and leaned forward, as though 
 studying his face. 
 
 " Eleven years," she muttered, " do change many 
 men, but I never knew a man made out of a weak- 
 ling." 
 
 " I have nothing more to say to you," Dominey 
 replied, " except to let you know that I am coming 
 to see my wife in the space of a few minutes." 
 
 The motor-horn was already sounding below when 
 Dominey was admitted to his wife's apartment. She 
 was dressed in a loose gown of a warm crimson colour, 
 and she had the air of one awaiting his arrival ex- 
 pectantly. The passion of hatred seemed to have 
 passed from her pale face and from the depths of her 
 strangely soft eyes. She held out her hands towards 
 him. Her brows were a little puckered. The dis- 
 appointment of a child lurked in her manner. 
 
 " You are going away.'' " she murmured. 
 
 " In a very few moments," he told her. " I have 
 been waiting to see you tor an hour." 
 
 She made a grimace. 
 
 " It was Mrs. Unthank. I think that she hid my 
 things on purpose. I was so anxious to see you." 
 
 " I want to talk to you about Mrs. Unthank," he 
 said. " Should you be very unhappy if I sent her 
 away and found some one younger and kinder to be 
 your companion.''" 
 
 The idea seemed to be outside the bounds of her 
 comprehension. 
 
 " Mrs. Unthank would never go," she declared. 
 " She stays here to listen to tlie voice. All night
 
 148 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 long sometimes she waits and listens, and it doesn't 
 come. Then she hears it, and she is rested." 
 
 " And you ? " he asked. 
 
 *' I am afraid," she confessed. " But then, jou 
 see, I am not very strong." 
 
 " You are not fond of Mrs. Unthank? " he enquired 
 anxious!}'. 
 
 " I don't think so," she answered, in a perplexed 
 tone, " I think I am very much afraid of her. But 
 it is no use, Everard ! She would never go away." 
 
 " When I return," Domlney said, " we shall see." 
 
 She took his arm and linked her hands through it. 
 
 " I am so sorry that you are going," she murmured. 
 " I hope you will soon come back. Will 3'ou come 
 back — my husband? " 
 
 Dominej's naik cut into the flesh of his clenched 
 hands. 
 
 " I will come back within three days," he promised. 
 
 " Do 3'ou know," she went on confidentially, " some- 
 thing has come into my mind lately. I spoke about it 
 yesterday, but I did not tell you what it was. You 
 need never be afraid of me any more. I understand." 
 
 " What do you understand? " he demanded huskily. 
 
 " The knowledge must have come to me," she went 
 on, dropping her voice a little and whispering almost 
 in his ear, " at the very moment when my dagger 
 rested upon your throat, when I suddenly felt the 
 desire to kill die away. You are very like him some- 
 times, but you are not Everard. You are not my 
 husband at all. You are another man." 
 
 Dominey gave a little gasp. They both turned 
 towards the door. Mrs. Unthank was standing there,
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 149 
 
 her gaunt, hard face lit up with a gleam of some- 
 thing which was like triumph, her ejes glittering. 
 Her lips, as though involuntarily, repeated her mis- 
 tress' last words. 
 " Another man ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 There were tines during their rapid journey when 
 Seaman, studying his companion, became thoughtfuh 
 Dominey seemed, indeed, to have passed beyond the 
 boundaries of any ordinary reserve, to have become 
 like a man immeshed in the toils of a past so absorb- 
 ing that he moved as though in a dream, speaking 
 only when necessary and comporting himself gen- 
 erally like one to whom all externals have lost sig- 
 nificance. As they embarked upon the final stage of 
 their travels. Seaman leaned forward in his seat in 
 the sombrely upholstered, overheated compartment. 
 
 " Your home-coming seems to depress you, Von 
 Ragastein," he said. 
 
 " It was not my intention," Dominey replied, " to 
 set foot in Germany again for many years." 
 
 "The past still bites, eh.?" 
 
 " Always." 
 
 The train sped on through long chains of vineyard- 
 covered hills, out into a stretch of flat country, into 
 forests of pines, in the midst of which were great 
 cleared spaces, where, notwithstanding the closely 
 drawn windows, the resinous odour from the fallen 
 trunks seemed to permeate the compartment. Pres- 
 ently they slackened speed. Seaman glanced at his 
 watch and rose.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 151 
 
 " Prepare yourself, my friend," he said. " We 
 descend in a few minutes." 
 
 Dominey glanced out of the window. 
 
 " But where are we? " he enquired. 
 
 " Within five minutes of our destination." 
 
 " But there is not a house in sight," Dominey re- 
 marked wonderingly. 
 
 " You will be received on board His Majesty's pri- 
 vate train," Seaman announced. " The Kaiser, with 
 his staff, is making one of his military tours. We 
 are honoured b}- being permitted to travel back with 
 him as far as the Belgian frontier." 
 
 They had come to a standstill now. A bearded 
 and uniformed official threw open the door of their 
 compartment, and they stepped on to the narrow 
 wooden platform of a small station which seemed to 
 have been recently built of fresh pine planks. The 
 train, immediately they had alighted, passed on. 
 Their journey was over. 
 
 A brief conversation was carried on between Sea- 
 man and the official, during which Dominey took 
 curious note of his surroundings. Around the sta- 
 tion, half hidden in some places by the trees and 
 shrubs, was drawn a complete cordon of soldiers, 
 who seemed to have recently disembarked from a 
 militarj' train which stood upon a siding. In the 
 middle of it was a solitary saloon carriage, painted 
 black, with much gold ornamentation, and having 
 emblazoned upon the central panel the royal arms of 
 Germany. Seaman, when he had finished his con- 
 versation, took Dominey by the arm and led him 
 across the line towards it. An officer received them
 
 152 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 at the steps and bowed punctiliously to Dominey, at 
 whom he gazed with much interest. 
 
 " His Majesty will receive you at once," he an- 
 nounced. " Follow me." 
 
 They boarded the train and passed along a richly 
 carpeted corridor. Their guide paused and pointed 
 to a small retiring-room, where several men were 
 seated. 
 
 " Herr Seaman will find friends there," he said. 
 " His Imperial Majesty will receive him for a few 
 minutes later. The Baron von Ragastein will come 
 this way." 
 
 Dominey was ushered now into the main saloon. 
 His guide motioned him to remain near the entrance, 
 and, himself advancing a few paces, stood at the 
 salute before a seated figure who was bending over 
 a map, which a stern-faced man in the uniform of a 
 general had unrolled before him. The Kaiser glanced 
 up at the sound of footsteps and whispered something 
 in the general's ear. The latter clicked his heels 
 together and retired. The Kaiser beckoned Dominey 
 to advance. 
 
 " The Baron von Ragastein, your Majesty," the 
 young officer murmured. 
 
 Dominey stood at attention for a moment and 
 bowed a little awkwardly. The Kaiser smiled. 
 
 " It pleases me," he said, " to see a German officer 
 ill at ease without his uniform. Count, you will leave 
 us. Baron von Ragastein, be seated." 
 
 " Sir Everard Dominey, at your service. Majesty," 
 Dominey replied, as he took the chair to which his 
 august host pointed.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 153 
 
 " Thorough in all things, I sec," the latter ob- 
 served. " Sit there and be at your ease. Good 
 reports have reached me of your work in Africa." 
 
 "I did my best to execute your Majesty's will," 
 Dominey ventured. 
 
 " You did so well," the Kaiser pronounced, " that 
 my counsellors were unanimous in advising your with- 
 drawal to what will shortly become the great centre 
 of interest. From the moment of receiving our com- 
 mands you appear to have displayed initiative. I 
 gather that your personation of this English baronet 
 has been successfully carried through?" 
 
 " Up to the present, your Majesty." 
 
 " Important though your work in Africa was," 
 the Kaiser continued, " your present task is a far 
 greater one. I wish to speak to you for these few 
 minutes without reserve. First, though, drink a 
 toast with me." 
 
 From a mahogany stand at his elbow, the Kaiser 
 drew out a long-necked bottle of Moselle, filled two 
 very beautiful glasses, passed one to his companion 
 and raised the other. 
 
 " To the Fatherland ! " he said. 
 
 " To the Fatherland ! " Dominey repeated. 
 
 They set down their glasses, empty. The Kaiser 
 threw back the grey military cloak which he w-as 
 wearing, displaying a long row of medals and decora- 
 tions. His fingers still toyed with the stem of his 
 wineglass. He seemed for a moment to lose hireself 
 in thought. His hard and somewhat cruel mouUi 
 was tightly closed; there was a slight frown upon 
 his forehead. He was sitting upright, taking no
 
 154 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 advantage of the cushioned back of his easy-chair, 
 his eyes a Httle screwed up, the frown deepening. 
 For quite five minutes there was complete silence. 
 One might have gathered that, turning aside from 
 great matters, he had been devoting himself entirely 
 to the scheme in which Dominey was concerned. 
 
 " Von Ragastein," he said at last, " I have sent 
 for you to have a few words concerning your habita- 
 tion in England. I wish you to receive your im- 
 pressions of your mission from my own lips." 
 
 " Your Majesty does me great honour," Dom- 
 iney murmured. 
 
 " I wish you to consider yourself," the Kaiser con- 
 tinued, " as entirely removed from the limits, the 
 authority and the duties of my espionage system. 
 From you I look for other things. I desire you to 
 enter into the spirit of your assumed position. As 
 a typical English country gentleman I desire you to 
 study the labour question, the Irish question, the 
 progress of this National Service scheme, and other 
 social movements of which you will receive notice in 
 due time. I desire a list compiled of those writers 
 who, in the Reviews, or by means of fiction, are en- 
 couraging the suspicions which I am inclined to fancy 
 England has begun to entertain towards the Father- 
 land. These things are all on the fringe of your 
 real mission. That, I believe, our admirable friend 
 Seaman has already confided to you. It is to seek 
 the friendship, if possible the intimacy, of Prince 
 TernilofF." 
 
 The Kaiser paused, and once more his eyes wan- 
 dered to tlie landscape which rolled away from the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 155 
 
 plate-glass windows of the car. They were cer- 
 tainly not the eyes of a dreamer, and yet in those 
 moments they seemed filled with brooding pictures. 
 
 " The Prince has already received me graciously," 
 Dominey confided. 
 
 " Terniloff is the dove of peace," the Kaiser pro- 
 nounced. " He carries the sprig of olive in his 
 mouth. My statesmen and counsellors would have 
 sent to London an ambassador with sterner quali- 
 ties. I preferred not. Terniloff is the man to gull 
 fools, because he is a fool himself. He is a fit am- 
 bassador for a country which has not the wit to 
 arm itself on land as well as by sea, when it sees a 
 nation, mightier, more cultured, more splendidly led 
 than its own, creeping closer ever}' day." 
 
 " The English appear to put their whole trust in 
 their navy, your Majesty," Dominey observed tenta- 
 tively. 
 
 The eyes of his companion flashed. His lips curled 
 contemptuously. 
 
 " Fools ! " he exclaimed. " Of what use will their 
 navy be when my sword is once drawn, when I hold 
 the coast towns of Calais and Boulogne, when my 
 cannon command the Straits of Dover J The days 
 of insular nations are passed, passed as surely as the 
 days of England's arrogant supremacy upon the 
 seas." 
 
 The Kaiser refilled his glass and Dominey's. 
 
 " In some months' time, Von Ragastein," he con- 
 tinued, " \'ou will understand why you have been en- 
 joined to become the friend and companion of Terni- 
 lofF. You will understand your mission a little more
 
 156 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 clearly than you do now. Its exact nature waits 
 upon developments. You can at all times trust Sea- 
 man." 
 
 Dominey bowed and remained silent. His com- 
 panion continued after another brief spell of silent 
 brooding. 
 
 " Von Ragastein," he said, " my decree of banish- 
 ment against 3'ou was a just one. The morals of my 
 people are as sacred to me as my oath to win for them 
 a mightier empire. You first of all betrayed the wife 
 of one of the most influential noblemen of a State 
 allied to my own, and then, in the duel that followed, 
 3"ou slew him." 
 
 " It was an accident, your Majesty," Dominey 
 pleaded. " I had no intention of even wounding the 
 Prince." 
 
 The Kaiser frowned. All manner of excuses were 
 loathsome to him. 
 
 " The accident should have happened the other 
 way," he rejoined sharply. " I should have lost a 
 valuable servant, but it was your life which was 
 forfeit, and not his. Still, they tell me that your 
 work in Africa was well and thoroughly done. I 
 give you this one great chance of rehabilitation. If 
 your work in England commends itself to me, the 
 sentence of exile under which you suffer shall be re- 
 scinded." 
 
 " Your Majesty is too good," Dominey murmured. 
 " The work, for its own sake, will command my ever}' 
 effort, even without the hope of reward." 
 
 " That," the Kaiser said, " is well spoken. It is 
 the spirit, I believe, with wliich every son of my
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 157 
 
 Empire regards the future. I think that they, too, 
 more especially those who surround my person, have 
 felt something of that divine message which has come 
 to me. For many years I have, for the sake of my 
 people, willed peace. Now that the time draws near 
 when Heaven has shown me another duty, I have 
 no fear but that every lo^-al German will bow liis 
 head before the lightnings which will play around my 
 sword and share with me the iron will to wield it. 
 Your audience is finished. Baron von Ragastein. 
 You will take your place with the gentlemen of my 
 suite in the retiring-room. We shall proceed within 
 a few minutes and leave yon at the Belgian frontier." 
 
 Dominey rose, bowed stiffly and backed down the 
 carpeted way. The Kaiser was alread}' bending once 
 more over the map. Seaman, who was waiting out- 
 side the door of the anteroom, called him in and in- 
 troduced him to several members of the suite. One, 
 a 3'oung man with a fixed monocle, scars upon his 
 face, and a queer, puppet-like carriage, looked at him 
 a little strangely. 
 
 " We met some years ago in Munich, Baron," he 
 remarked. 
 
 " I acknowledge no former meetings with any one 
 in this country," Dominey replied stiffly. " I obe}' 
 the orders of my Imperial master when I wipe from 
 my mind every episode or reminiscence of my former 
 days." 
 
 The young man's face cleared, and Seaman, by has 
 side, who had knitted his brows thoughtfully, nodded 
 undcrstandingly. 
 
 " You are certainly a great actor, Baron," he de-
 
 158 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 clared. " Even your German has become a little 
 English. Sit down and join us in a glass of beer. 
 Luncheon will be served to us here in a few minutes. 
 You wiU not be recalled to the Presence until we set 
 you down." 
 
 Dominey bowed stiffly and took his place with the 
 others. The train had already started. Dominey 
 gazed thoughtfully out of the window. Seaman, who 
 was waiting about for his audience, patted him on 
 the arm. 
 
 " Dear friend," he said, " I sympathise with you. 
 You sorrow because your back is now to Berlin. 
 Still, remember this, that the day is not far off when 
 the sentence of exile against you wiU be annulled. 
 You will have expiated that crime which, believe me, 
 although I do not venture to claim a place amongst 
 them, none of your friends and equals have ever re- 
 garded in the same light as His Imperial Majesty." 
 
 A smiling steward, in black livery with white fac- 
 ings, made his appearance and served them with beer 
 in tall glasses. The senior officer there, who had 
 now seated himself opposite to Dominey, raised his 
 glass and bowed. 
 
 " To the Baron von Ragastein," he said, " whose 
 acquaintance I regret not having made before to- 
 day. May we soon welcome him back, a brother in 
 arms, a companion in great deeds ! Hoch ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 Sir Everard Dominey, Baronet, the latest and most 
 popular recruit to Norfolk sporting society, stood 
 one afternoon, some months after his return from 
 Germany, at the corner of the long wood which 
 stretched from the ridge of hills behind almost to 
 the kitchen gardens of the Hall. At a reasonable 
 distance on his left, four other guns were posted. 
 On one side of him stood Middleton, leaning on his 
 ash stick and listening to the approach of the beat- 
 ers ; on the other, Seaman, curiously out of place in 
 his dark grey suit and bowler hat. The old keeper, 
 whom time seemed to have cured of all his appre- 
 hensions, was softly garrulous and verj' happy. 
 
 " That do seem right to have a Squire Dominey at 
 this corner," he observed, watching a high cock 
 pheasant come crashing down over their heads. " I 
 mind when the Squire, your father, sir, gave up this 
 corner one day to Lord Wendermere, whom folks 
 called one of the finest pheasant shots in England, 
 and though they streamed over his head like starlings, 
 he'd nowt but a few cripples to show for his morn- 
 ing's work." 
 
 " Come out with a bit of a twist from the left, 
 don't they.'' " Dominey remarked, repeating his late 
 exploit. 
 
 " They do that, sir," the old man assented, " and
 
 i6o THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 no one but a Domlney seems to have learnt the knack 
 of dealing with them proper. That foreign Prince, 
 so the}' sa}', is well on to his birds, but I wouldn't 
 trust him at this corner." 
 
 The old man moved off a few paces to some higher 
 ground, to watch the progress of the beaters through 
 the wood. Seaman turned to his companion, and 
 there was a note of genuine admiration in his tone. 
 
 " My friend," he declared, " you are a miracle. 
 You seem to have developed the Dominey touch even 
 in killing pheasants." 
 
 " You must remember that I have shot higher 
 ones in Hungary," was the easy repl}". 
 
 " I am not a sportsman," Seaman admitted. " I 
 do not understand sport. But I do know this : there 
 is an old man who has lived on this land since 
 the day of his birth, who has watched you shoot, 
 reverently, and finds even the way you hold your 
 gun familiar." 
 
 " That twist of the birds," Dominey explained, 
 " is simpl}' a local superstition. The wood ends on 
 the slant, and they seem to be flying more to the 
 left than they really are." 
 
 Seaman gazed steadfastly for a moment along the 
 side of the wood. 
 
 " Her Grace is coming," he said. " She seems to 
 share the Duke's dislike of me, and she is too great 
 a lad}' to conceal her feelings. Just one word be- 
 fore I go. The Princess Eiderstrom arrives this 
 afternoon." 
 
 Dominey frowned, then, warned by the keeper's 
 shout, turned around and killed a hare.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION i6: 
 
 ** My friend," he said, with a certain note of chal- 
 lenge in his tone, " I am not certain that you have 
 told me all that 3'ou know concerning the Princess's 
 visit." 
 
 Seaman was thoughtful for a brief space of time. 
 
 " You are right," he admitted, " I have not. It is 
 a fault which I will repair presently." 
 
 He strolled away to the next stand, where Mr. 
 Mangan was displaying an altogether different st-and- 
 ard of proficiency. The Duchess came up to Dom- 
 iney a few minutes later. 
 
 " I told Henry I shouldn't stop with him another 
 moment," she declared. " He has fired off about 
 forty cartridges and wounded one hare." 
 
 " Henry is not keen," Dominey remarked, " al- 
 though I think you are a little h;ird on him, are you 
 not.-^ I saw him bring down a nice cock just now. 
 So far as regards the birds, it really does not matter. 
 They are all going home." 
 
 The Duchess was very smartly tailored in clothes 
 of brown heather mixture. She wore thick shoes 
 and gaiters and a small hat. She was looking very 
 well but a little annoyed. 
 
 " I hear," she said, " that Stephanie is coming to- 
 day." 
 
 Dominey nodded, and seemed for a moment intent 
 on watching the flight of a pigeon which kept tanta- 
 lisingl}' out of range. 
 
 " She is coming down for a few days," he assented. 
 " I am afraid that she will be bored to death." 
 
 "Where did you become so friendW with her.?" 
 his cousin asked curiousl3'.
 
 i62 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " The ifirst time we ever met," Dominey replied, 
 *' was in the Carlton grill room, a few days after 
 I landed in England. She mistook me for some one 
 else, and we parted with the usual apologies. I met 
 her the same night at Carlton House Terrace — she 
 is related to the TernilofFs — and we came across 
 one another pretty often after that, during the short 
 time I was in town." 
 
 " Yes," the Duchess murmured meditatively. 
 " That is another of the little surprises 3^ou seem to 
 have all ready dished up for us. How on earth dic^ 
 you become so friendly with the German Ambassa- 
 dor.? " 
 
 Dominey smiled tolerantly. 
 
 " Really," he replied, " there is not anything so 
 very extraordinary about it, is there? Mr. Sea- 
 man, my partner in one or two mining enterprises, 
 took me to call upon him. He is very interested in 
 East Africa, politically and as a sportsman. Our 
 conversations seemed to interest him and led to a 
 certain intimacy, — of which I may say that I am 
 proud. I have the greatest respect and liking for 
 the Prince." 
 
 " So have I," Caroline agreed. " I think he's 
 charming. Henry declares that he must be either a 
 fool or a knave." 
 
 " Henry is blinded by prejudice," Dominey de- 
 clared a little impatiently. " He cannot imagine a 
 German who feasts with any one else but the devil." 
 
 " Don't get annoyed, dear," she begged, resting 
 her fingers for a moment upon his coat sleeve. " I 
 admire the Prince immensely. He is absolutely the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 163 
 
 only German I ever met whom one felt instinctively 
 to be a gentleman. — Now what are you smiling 
 at?" 
 
 Dominey turned a perfectly serious face towards 
 her. " Not guilty," he pleaded. 
 
 " I saw you smile." 
 
 " It was just a quaint thought. You are rather 
 sweeping, are you not, Caroline? " 
 
 " I'm generally right," she declared. — " To re- 
 turn to the subject of Stephanie." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Do you know whom she mistook you for in the 
 Carlton grill room? " 
 
 " Tell me? " he answered evasively. 
 
 " She mistook you for a Baron Leopold von Ra- 
 gastein," Caroline continued drily. " Von Raga- 
 stein was her lover in Hungary. He fought a duel 
 with her husband and killed him. The Kaiser was 
 furious and banished him to East Africa." 
 
 Dominey picked up his shooting-stick and handed 
 his gun to Middleton. The beaters were through the 
 wood. 
 
 " Yes, I remember now," he said. " She addressed 
 me as Leopold." 
 
 " I still don't see why it was necessarj^ to invite 
 her here," his companion observed a little petulantly. 
 " She may — call you Leopold again ! " 
 
 " If she does, I shall be deaf," Dominey promised. 
 " But seriously, she is a cousin of the Princess Terni- 
 loff, and the two women are devoted to one another. 
 The Princess hates shooting parties, so I thought 
 they could entertain one another."
 
 i64 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Bosh ! , Stej^hanie Tvill monopolise you all the 
 time ! That's what she's coming for." 
 
 " You are not suggesting that she intends seriously 
 to put me in the place of mj double? " Dominey 
 asked, with mock alarm, 
 
 " Oh, I shouldn't wonder ! And she's an extraor- 
 dinarily attractive woman. I'm full of complaints, 
 Everard. There's that other horrible little man. 
 Seaman. You know that the very sight of him makes 
 Henry furious. I am quite sure that he never 
 expected to sit down at the same table with 
 him." 
 
 " I am really sorry about that," Dominey assured 
 her, " but 3'ou see His Excellency takes a great in- 
 terest in him on account of this Friendship League, 
 of which Seaman is secretary, and he particularly 
 asked to have him here." 
 
 " Well, 3"ou must admit that the situation is a 
 little awkward for Henry," she complained. " Next 
 to Lord Roberts, Henry is practically the leader of 
 the National Service movement here ; he hates Ger- 
 many and distrusts every German he ever met, and 
 in a small house party like this we meet the German 
 Ambassador and a man who is working hard to lull 
 to sleep the very sentiments which Henry is endeav- 
 ouring to arouse." 
 
 " It sounds very pathetic," Dominey admitted, 
 with a smile, " but even Henry likes TerniloflP, and 
 after all it is stimulating to meet one's opponents 
 sometimes." 
 
 " Of course he likes Terniloff," Caroline assented, 
 " but he hates the things he stands for. However,
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 165 
 
 I'd have for^ven you everything if onl}' Stephanie 
 weren't coming. That woman is really beginning to 
 irritate me. She alwaj^s seems to be making mys- 
 terious references to some sentimental past in which 
 you both are concerned, and for which there can be 
 no foundation at all except your supposed likeness 
 to her exiled lover. Why, you never met her until 
 that day at the Carlton ! " 
 
 " She was a complete stranger to me," Dominey as- 
 serted. 
 
 " Then all I can say is that you have been un- 
 usualh' rapid if j^ou've managed to create a past in 
 something under three months ! " Caroline pronounced 
 suspiciously. " I call her coming here a most bare- 
 faced proceeding, especially as this is practically a 
 bachelor establishment." 
 
 They had arrived at the next stand, and conversa- 
 tion was temporarily suspended. A flight of wild 
 duck were put out from a pool in the wood, and 
 for a few minutes every one was busy. Middleton 
 watched his master with unabated approval. 
 
 " You're most as good as the old Squire with them 
 high duck. Sir Everard," he said. " That's true 
 ver}' few can touch 'em when they're coming out 
 nigh to the pheasants. They can't believe in the 
 speed of 'em." 
 
 " Do 3'ou think Sir Everard shoots as well as he 
 did before he went to Africa?" Caroline asked. 
 
 Middleton touched his hat and turned to Seaman, 
 who was standing in the background. 
 
 " Better, your Grace," he ansv, ered, " as I was 
 saying to this gentleman here, cai'l}' this morning.
 
 166 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 He's cooler like and swings more level. I'd have 
 known his touch on a gun anywhere, though." 
 
 There was a glint of admiration in Seaman's eyes. 
 The beaters came through the wood, and the little 
 party of guns gossiped together while the game was 
 collected. TernilofF, his usual pallor chased away 
 by the bracing wind and the pleasure of the sport, 
 was affable and even loquacious. He had great es- 
 tates of his own in Saxony and was explaining to 
 the Duke his manner of shooting them. Middleton 
 glanced at his horn-rimmed watch. 
 
 " There's another hour's good light, sir," he said. 
 " Would you care about a partridge drive, or should 
 we go through the home copse.'' " 
 
 " If I might make a suggestion," TernilofF ob- 
 served diffidentl}', " most of the pheasants went into 
 that gloomy-looking wood just across the marshes." 
 
 There was a moment's rather curious silence. 
 Dominey had turned and was looking towards the 
 wood in question, as though fascinated by its almost 
 sinister-like blackness and density. Middleton had 
 dropped some game he was carrying and was mutter- 
 ing to himself. 
 
 "We call that the Black Wood," Dominey said 
 calmly, " and I am rather afraid that the pheasants 
 who find their way there claim sanctuary. What 
 do 3'ou think, Middleton.'' " 
 
 The old man turned his head slowly and looked at 
 his master. Somehow or other, every scrap of col- 
 our seemed to have faded out of his bronzed face. 
 His eyes were filled with that vague horror of the 
 supernatural common amongst the peasant folk of
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 167 
 
 various localities. His voice shook. The old fear 
 was back again. 
 
 " You wouldn't put the beaters in there, Squire? " 
 he faltered ; " not that there's one of them would 
 go." 
 
 " Have we stumbled up against a local supersti- 
 tion.'^ " the Duke enquired. 
 
 " That's not altogether local, your Grace," Mid- 
 dleton replied, " as the Squire himself will tell you. 
 I doubt whether there's a beater in all Norfolk would 
 go through the Black Wood, if you paid him red 
 gold for it. — Here, you lads." 
 
 He turned to the beaters, who were standing wait- 
 ing for instructions a few yards away. There were 
 a dozen of them, stalwart men for the most part, 
 clad in rough smocks and breeches and carrying thick 
 sticks. 
 
 " There's one of the gentlemen here," Middleton 
 announced, addressing them, " who wants to know if 
 you'd go through the Black Wood of Domine}^ for 
 a sovereign apiece, eh.'' — Watch their faces, your 
 Grace. — Now then, lads? " 
 
 There was no possibility of any mistake. The 
 very suggestion seemed to have taken the healthy 
 sunburn from their cheeks. They fumbled with their 
 sticks uneasily. One of them touched his hat and 
 spoke to Dominey. 
 
 " I'm one as 'as seen it, sir, as well as heard," he 
 said. " I'd sooner give up my farm than go nigh 
 the place." 
 
 Caroline suddenly passed her arm through Dom- 
 iney's. There was a note of distress in her tone.
 
 i68 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Henry, you're an idiot ! " she exclaimed. " It 
 was my fault, Everard. I'm so sorry. Just for one 
 moment I had forgotten. I ought to have stopped 
 Henry at once. The poor man has no memory." 
 
 Dominey's arm responded for a moment to the pres- 
 sure of her fingers. Then he turned to the beaters. 
 
 " Well, no one is going to ask you to go to the 
 Black Wood," he promised. " Get round to the back 
 of Hunt's stubbles, and bring them into the roots 
 and then over into the park. We will line the park 
 fence. How is that, Middleton, eh? " 
 
 The keeper touched his 'hat and stepped briskly 
 off. 
 
 "I'll just have a walk with them myself, sir," he 
 said. " Them birds do break at Fuller's corner. 
 I'll see if I can flank them. You'll know where to 
 put the guns. Squire." 
 
 Dominey nodded. One and all the beaters were 
 walking with most unaccustomed speed towards their 
 destination. Their backs were towards the Black 
 Wood. Terniloff came up to his host. 
 
 " Have I, by chance, been terribly tactless .'' " he 
 asked. 
 
 Dominey shook his head. 
 
 " You asked a perfectly natural question, Prince," 
 he replied. " There is no reason why you should not 
 know the truth. Near that wood occurred the trag- 
 edy which drove me from England for so many 
 years." 
 
 " I am deeply grieved," the Prince began — 
 
 " It is false sentiment to avoid allusions to it," 
 Dominey interrupted. " I was attacked there one
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 169 
 
 night by a man who had some cause for offence 
 against me. We fought, and I reached home in a 
 somewhat alarming state. My condition terrified 
 my wife so much that she has been an invalid ever 
 since. But here is the point which has given birth 
 to all these superstitions, and which made me for 
 many years a suspected person. The man with 
 whom I fought has never been seen since." 
 
 TernilofF was at once too fascinated b}' the story 
 and puzzled by his host's manner of telling it to main- 
 tain his apologetic attitude. 
 
 " Never seen since ! " he repeated. 
 
 " My own memory as to the end of our fight is 
 uncertain," Dominey continued. " My impression is 
 that I left my assailant unconscious upon the 
 ground." 
 
 " Then it is his ghost, I imagine, who haunts the 
 Black Wood?" 
 
 Dominey shook himself as one who would get rid 
 of an unwholesome thought. 
 
 " The wood itself, Prince," he explained, as they 
 walked along, " is a noisome place. There are quag- 
 mires even in the middle of it, where a man may sink 
 in and be never heard of again. Every sort of ver- 
 min abounds there, every unclean insect and bird are 
 to be found in the thickets. I suppose the character 
 of the place has encouraged the local superstition in 
 which every one of those men firmly believes." 
 
 " They absolutely believe the place to be haunted, 
 then.?" 
 
 " The superstition goes further," Dominey contin- 
 ued. " Our locals say that somewhere in the heart
 
 170 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 of the wood, where I believe that no human being for 
 many years has dared to penetrate, there is living in 
 the spiritual sense some sort of a demon who comes 
 out only at night and howls underneath my win- 
 dows." 
 
 " Has any one ever seen it? " 
 
 " One or two of the villagers ; to the best of my 
 belief, no one else," Dominey replied. 
 
 Terniloff seemed on the point of asking more 
 questions, but the Duke touched him on the arm and 
 drew him on one side, as though to call his attention 
 to the sea fogs which were rolling up from the 
 marshes. 
 
 " Prince," he whispered, " the details of that story 
 are inextricably mixed up with the insanity of Lady 
 Dominey. I am sure you understand." 
 
 The Prince, a diplomatist to his fingertips, ap- 
 peared shocked, although a furtive smile still lingered 
 upon his lips. 
 
 " I regret my faux pas most deeply," he murmured. 
 " Sir Everard," he went on, " you promised to tell 
 me of some of your days with a shotgun in South 
 Africa. Isn't there a bird there which corresponds 
 with your* partridges.-^ " 
 
 Dominey smiled. 
 
 " If you can kill the partridges which Middleton 
 is going to send over in the next ten minutes," he 
 said, " you could shoot anything of the sort that 
 comes along in East Africa, with a catapult. If 
 you will stand just a few paces there to the left, 
 Henry, Terniloff by the gate, Stillwell up by the 
 left-hand corner, Mangan next, Eddy next, and I
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 171 
 
 shall be just beyond towards the oak clump. Will 
 you walk with me, Caroline? " 
 
 His cousin took his arm as they walked off and 
 pressed it. 
 
 " Everard, I congratulate you," she said. " You 
 have conquered your nerve absolutely. You did a 
 simple and a fine thing to tell the whole story. Why, 
 you were almost matter-of-fact. I could even have 
 imagined you were telling it about some one else." 
 
 Her host smiled enigmatically. 
 
 " Curious that it should have struck you like that," 
 he remarked. " Do you know, when I was telling it 
 I had the same feeling. — Do you mind crouching 
 down a little now.'' I am going to blow the whistle."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Even in the great dining-room of Dominey Hall, 
 the mahogan}' table which was its great glory was 
 stretched that evening to its extreme capacity. Be- 
 sides the house party, which included the Right Hon- 
 ourable Gerald Watson, a recently appointed Cabinet 
 Minister, there were several guests from the neigh- 
 bourhood — the Lord Lieutenant of the Count^^ and 
 other notabilities. Caroline, with the Lord Lieu- 
 tenant on one side of her and Terniloff on the other, 
 played the part of hostess adequately but without 
 enthusiasm. Her eyes seldom left for long the other 
 end of the table, where Stephanie, at Dominey's left 
 hand, wath her crown of exquisitely coifFured red- 
 gold hair, her marvellous jewellery, her languorous 
 grace of manner, seemed more like one of the beauties 
 of an ancient Venetian Court than a modern Hun- 
 garian Princess gowned in the Rue de la Paix. Con- 
 versation remained chiefly local and concerned the 
 day's sport and kindred topics. It was not until to- 
 wards the close of the meal that the Duke succeeded 
 in launching his favourite bubble. 
 
 " I trust, Everard," he said, raising his voice a 
 little as he turned towards his host, " that you make 
 a point of inculcating the principles of National 
 Service into your tenantry here."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 173 
 
 Dominey's reply was a little dubious. 
 
 " I am afraid the^' do not take to the idea very 
 kindly in this part of the world," he confessed. 
 " Purely agricultural districts are always a little diffi- 
 cult." 
 
 " It is your duty as a landowner," the Duke in- 
 sisted, " to alter their point of view. There is not 
 the slightest doubt," he added, looking belligerently 
 over the top of his pince nez at Seaman, who was 
 seated at the opposite side of the table, " that before 
 long we shall find ourselves — and in a shocking state 
 of unpreparedness, mind you — at war with Ger- 
 many." 
 
 Lady Maddeley, the wife of the Lord Lieutenant, 
 who sat at his side, seemed a little startled. She was 
 probably one of the onh^ people present who was not 
 aware of the Duke's foible. 
 
 " Do you really think so.? " she asked. " The Ger- 
 mans seem such civilised people, so peaceful and do- 
 mestic in their home life, and that sort of thing." 
 
 The Duke groaned. He glanced down the table to 
 be sure that Prince TernilofF was out of hearing. 
 
 " My dear Lady Maddeley," he declared, " Ger- 
 many is not governed like England. When the war 
 comes, the people will have had nothing to do with 
 it. A great many of them will be just as surprised 
 as you will be, but they will fight all the same." 
 
 Seaman, who had kept silence during the last few 
 moments with great difficulty, now took up the Duke's 
 challenge. 
 
 " Permit me to assure 3'ou, madam," he said, bow- 
 ing across the table, " that the war with Germany
 
 174 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 of which the Duke is so afraid will never come. I 
 speak with some amount of knowledge because I am 
 a German by birth, although naturalised in this coun- 
 try. I have as many and as dear friends in Berlin 
 as in London, and with the exception of my recent 
 absence in Africa, where I had the pleasure to meet 
 our host, I spend a great part of my time going back 
 and forth between the two capitals. I have also the 
 honour to be the secretary of a society for the pro- 
 motion of a better understanding between the citizens 
 of Germany and England." 
 
 " Rubbish ! " the Duke exclaimed. " The Germans 
 don't want a better understanding. They only want 
 to fool us into believing that they do." 
 
 Seaman looked a little pained. He stuck to his 
 guns, however. 
 
 " His Grace and I," he observed, " are old op- 
 ponents on this subject." 
 
 " We are indeed," the Duke agreed. " You may 
 be an honest man, Mr. Seaman, but you are a very 
 ignorant one upon this particular topic." 
 
 " You are probably both right in your way," Dom- 
 iney intervened, very much in the manner of a well- 
 bred host making his usual effort to smooth over two 
 widely divergent points of view. " There is no doubt 
 a war party in Germany and a peace party, states- 
 men who place economic progress first, and others 
 who are tainted with a purely military lust for con- 
 quest. In this country it is very hard for us to 
 strike a balance between the two." 
 
 Seaman beamed his thanks upon his host. 
 
 " I have friends," he said impressively, " in the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 175 
 
 very highest circles of German}', who are continuall}' 
 encouraging my work here, and I have received the 
 benediction of" the Kaiser himself upon my efforts to 
 promote a better feeling in this country. And if 
 3^ou will forgive my saying so, Duke, it is such ill- 
 advised and ill-founded statements as you are con- 
 stantly making about my country which is the only 
 bar to a better understanding between us." 
 
 " I have my views," the Duke snapped, " and they 
 have become convictions. I shall continue to express 
 them at all times and with all the eloquence at my 
 command." 
 
 The Ambassador, to whom portions of this con- 
 versation had now become audible, leaned a little for- 
 ward in his place. 
 
 " Let me speak first as a private individual," he 
 begged, " and express my well-studied opinion that 
 war between our two countries would be simply race 
 suicide, an indescribable and an abominable crime. 
 Then I will remember what I represent over here, 
 and I will venture to add in my ambassadorial ca- 
 pacity that I come with an absolute and heartfelt 
 mandate of peace. My task over here is to secure 
 and ensure it." 
 
 Caroline flashed a warning glance at her hus- 
 band. 
 
 " How nice of you to be so frank. Prince ! " she 
 said. " The Duke sometimes forgets, in the pursuit 
 of his hobby, that a private dinner table is not a 
 platform. I insist upon it that we discuss some- 
 thing of more genuine interest." 
 
 " There isn't a more vital subject in the world,"
 
 176 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 the Duke declared, resigning himself, however, to si- 
 lence. 
 
 " We will speak," the Ambassador suggested, " of 
 the way in which our host brought down those tall 
 pheasants." 
 
 " You will tell me, perhaps," Seaman suggested to 
 the lad}' on his right, " how j'ou English women have 
 been able to secure for yourselves so much more lib- 
 erty than our German wives enjoy.'' " 
 
 " Later on," Stephanie whispered to her host, with 
 a little tremble in her voice, " I have a surprise for 
 you." 
 
 After dinner, Dominej-'s guests passed naturally 
 enough to the relaxations which each preferred. 
 There were two bridge tables, TernilofF and the Cab- 
 inet Minister played billiards, and Seaman, with a 
 touch which amazed every one, drew strange music 
 from the yellow keys of the old-fashioned grand piano 
 in the dra^^^ng-room. Stephanie and her host made 
 a slow progress through the hall and picture gallery. 
 For some time their conversation was engaged solely 
 with the objects to which Dominey drew his com- 
 panion's attention. \^Tien they had passed out of 
 possible hearing, however, of any of the other guests, 
 Stephanie's fingers tightened upon her companion's 
 arm. 
 
 " I wish to speak to you alone," she said, " without 
 the possibility of any one overhearing." 
 
 Dominey hesitated and looked behind. 
 
 " Your guests are well occupied," she continued a 
 little impatiently, " and in any case I am one of them. 
 I claim your attention."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 177 
 
 Domine^f threw open the door of the library and 
 turned on a couple of the electric lights. She made 
 her way to the great open fireplace, on which a log 
 was burning, looked down into the shadows of the 
 room and back again into her host's face. 
 
 " For one moment," she begged, " turn on all the 
 lights. I wish to be sure that we are alone." 
 
 Domlney did as he was bidden. The furthermost 
 corners of the room, with its many wings of book- 
 filled shelves, were illuminated. She nodded. 
 
 " Now turn them all out again except this one," 
 she directed, " and wheel me up an easy-chair. — No, 
 I choose this settee. Please seat yourself by my 
 side." 
 
 " Is this going to be serious.'* " he asked, with some 
 slight disquietude. 
 
 " Serious but wonderful," she murmured, lifting 
 her eyes to his. " Will you please listen to me, Leo- 
 pold.?" 
 
 She was half curled up in a corner of the settee, 
 her head resting slightly upon her long fingers, her 
 brown e3'es steadily fixed upon her companion. 
 There was an atmosphere about her of serious yet 
 of tender things. Dominey's face seemed to fall into 
 more rigid lines as he realised the appeal of her eyes. 
 
 " Leopold," she began, " I left this country a few 
 weeks ago, feeling that you were a brute, determined 
 never to see you again, half inclined to expose you 
 before I went as an impostor and a charlatan. Ger- 
 many means little to me, and a patriotism which took 
 no account of human obligations left me absolutely 
 unresponsive. I meant to go home and never to re-
 
 178 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 turn to London. My heart was bruised, and I was 
 very unhappy." 
 
 She paused, but her companion made no sign. She 
 paused for so long, however, that speech became nec- 
 essary. 
 
 " You are speaking, Princess," he said calmly, " to 
 one who is not present. My name is no longer Leo- 
 pold." 
 
 She laughed at him with a curious mixture of ten- 
 derness and bitterness. 
 
 " My friend," she continued, " I am terrified to 
 think, besides 3'our name, how much of humanity you 
 have lost in your new identity. To proceed, it 
 suited my convenience to remain for a few days in 
 Berlin, and I was therefore compelled to present my- 
 self at Potsdam. There I received a great surprise. 
 Wilhelm spoke to me of you, and though, alas ! my 
 heart is still bruised, he helped me to understand." 
 
 " Is this wise? " he asked a little desperately. 
 
 She ignored his words. 
 
 " I was taken back into favour at Court," she 
 went on. " For that I owe to you my thanks. Wil- 
 helm was much impressed by your recent visit to 
 him, and by the way in which you have established 
 yourself here. He spoke also with warm commen- 
 dation of your labours in Africa, which he seemed to 
 appreciate all the more as you were sent there an 
 exile. He asked me, Leopold," she added, dropping 
 her voice a little, " if my feelings towards you re- 
 mained unchanged." 
 
 Dominey's face remained unrelaxed. Persistently 
 he refused the challenge of her eyes.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 179 
 
 " I told him the truth," she proceeded. " I told 
 him how it all began, and how it must last with me — 
 to the end. We spoke even of the duel. I told him 
 what both your seconds had explained to me, — that 
 turn of the wrist, Conrad's wild lunge, how he liter- 
 ally threw himself upon the point of your sword. 
 Wilhelm understands and forgives, and he has sent 
 you this letter." 
 
 She drew a small grey envelope from her pocket. 
 On the seal were the Imperial Hohenzollern arms. 
 She passed it to him. 
 
 " Leopold," she whispered, " please read that." 
 
 He shook his head, although he accepted the letter 
 with reluctant fingers. 
 
 " Leopold again," he muttered. " It is not for 
 me." 
 
 " Read the superscription," she directed. 
 
 He obeyed her. It was addressed in a strange, 
 straggling handwriting to Sir Everard Dominey, 
 Baronet. He broke the seal unwillingly and drew 
 out the letter. It was dated barely a fortnight back. 
 There was neither beginning nor ending; just a cou- 
 ple of sentences scrawled across the thick notepaper : 
 
 " It is my will that you offer your hand in marriage to 
 the Princess Stephanie of Eiderstrom. Your union 
 shall be blessed by the Church and approved by my 
 Court. 
 
 " Wilhelm.'' 
 
 Dominey sat as a man enthralled with silence. She 
 watched him. 
 
 "Not on your knees yet.''" she asked, with faint
 
 i8o THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 but somewhat resentful irony. " Can it be, Leo- 
 pold, that vou have lost your love for me? You 
 have changed so much and in so many ways. Has 
 the love gone.'' " 
 
 Even to himself his voice sounded harsh and un- 
 natural, his words instinct with the graceless cruelty 
 of a clown. 
 
 " This is not practical," he declared. " Think ! 
 I am as I have been addressed here, and as I must 
 remain yet for months to come — Everard Dominey, 
 an Englishman and the owner of this house — the 
 husband of Lady Dominey." 
 
 "Where is your reputed wife.''" Stephanie de- 
 manded, frowning. 
 
 " In the nursing home where she has been for the 
 last few months," he replied. " She has already 
 practically recovered. She cannot remain there 
 much longer." 
 
 " You must insist upon it that she does." 
 
 " I ask you to consider the suspicions which would 
 be excited by such a course," Dominey pleaded 
 earnestly, " and further, can you explain to me in 
 what way I, having already, according to the belief 
 of everybody, another wife living, can take advan- 
 tage of this mandate.'' " 
 
 She looked at him wonderingly. 
 
 "You make difficulties? You sit there like the 
 cold Englishman whose place you are taking, you 
 whose tears have fallen before now upon my hand, 
 whose lips - — " 
 
 " You speak of one who is dead," Dominey inter- 
 rupted, " dead until the coming of great events may
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION i8i 
 
 bring him to life again. Until that time your lover 
 must be dumb." 
 
 Then her anger blazed out. She spoke incoher- 
 ently, passionately, dragged his face down to hers 
 and clenched her fist the next moment as though she 
 would have struck it. She broke down with a storm 
 of tears. 
 
 " Not so hard — not so hard, Leopold ! " she im- 
 plored. " Oh ! yours is a great task, and 3'ou must 
 carr}' it through to the end, but we have his permis- 
 sion — there can be found a way — we could be mar- 
 ried secretly. At least your lips — your arms ! My 
 heart is starved, Leopold." 
 
 He rose to his feet. Her arms were still twined 
 about his neck, her lips hungrj' for his kisses, her 
 eyes shining up into his. 
 
 " Have pity on me, Stephanie," he begged. " Un- 
 til our time has come there is dishonour even in a 
 single kiss. Wait for the day, the dsij you know 
 of." 
 
 She unwound her arms and shivered slightly. Pier 
 hurt eyes regarded him wonderingly. 
 
 " Leopold," she faltered, " what has changed you 
 like this.-^ What has dried up all the passion in you? 
 You are a different man. Let me look at you." 
 
 She caught him by the shoulders, dragged him un- 
 derneath the electric globe, and stood there gazing 
 into his face. The great log upon the hearth was 
 spluttering and fizzing. Through the closed door 
 came the faint wave of conversation and laughter 
 from outside. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes 
 were seeking to rend the mask from his face.
 
 i82 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Can you have learnt to care for any one else? " 
 she muttered. " There were no women in Africa. 
 This Rosamund Dominey, your reputed wife — they 
 tell me that she is beautiful, that you have been kind- 
 ness itself to her, that her health has improved since 
 your coming, that she adores you. You wouldn't 
 dare — " 
 
 " No," he interrupted, " I should not dare." 
 
 " Then what are you looking at.-^ " she demanded. 
 "Tell me that?" 
 
 His eyes were following the shadowed picture which 
 had passed out of the room. He saw once more the 
 slight, girlish form, the love-seeking light in those 
 pleading dark eyes, the tremulous lips, the whole 
 sweet appeal for safety from a frightened child to 
 him, the strong man. He felt the clinging touch of 
 those soft fingers laid upon his, the sweetness of those 
 marvellously awakened emotions, so cruelly and 
 drearily stifled through a cycle of years. The wom- 
 an's passion by his side seemed suddenly tawdry and 
 unreal, the seeking of her lips for his something 
 horrible. His back was towards the door, and it 
 was her cry of angi'y dismay which first apprised 
 him of a welcome intruder. He swung around to find 
 Seaman standing upon the threshold — Seaman, to 
 him a very angel of deliverance. 
 
 " I am indeed sorry to intrude. Sir Everard," the 
 newcomer declared, with a shade of genuine concern 
 on his round, good-humoured face. " Something has 
 happened which I thought you ought to know at 
 once. Can you spare me a moment? " 
 
 The Princess swept past them without a word of
 
 He swung around to find Seaman standing upon tlie threshold. 
 
 Page 182.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 183 
 
 farewell or a backward glance. She had the carriage 
 and the air of an insulted queen. A shade of deeper 
 trouble came into Seaman's face as he stepped re- 
 spectfully on one side. 
 
 "What is it that has happened.''" Dominey de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Lady Dominey has returned," was the quiet re-
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 It seemed to Dominej- that he had never seen any- 
 thing more pathetic than that eager glance, half of 
 hope, half of apprehension, flashed upon him from 
 the strange, tired eyes of the woman who was stand- 
 ing before the log fire in a little recess of the main 
 hall. By her side stood a pleasant, friendly looking 
 person in the uniform of a nurse ; a yard or two be- 
 hind, a maid carrying a jewel case. Rosamund, who 
 had thrown back her veil, had been standing with 
 her foot upon the fender. Her whole expression 
 changed as Dominey came hastily towards her with 
 outstretched hands. 
 
 " My dear child," he exclaimed, " welcome home ! " 
 
 " Welcome.'' '' she repeated, with a little glad catch 
 in her throat. " You mean it? " 
 
 With a self-control of which he gave no sign, he 
 touched the lips which were raised so eagerly to his 
 as tenderly and reverently as though this were some 
 strange child committed to his care. 
 
 " Of course I mean it," he answered heartily. 
 " But what possessed you to come without giving us 
 notice.^ How was this, nurse.'' " 
 
 " Her ladyship has had no sleep for two nights," 
 the latter replied. " She has been so much better 
 that we dreaded the thought of a relapse, so Mrs.
 
 THE GRE/^T IMPERSONATION 185 
 
 Coulson, our matron, thought it best to let her have 
 her own way about coniin<T. Instead of telegraphing 
 to you, unfortunate!}', we telegraphed to Doctor Har- 
 rison, and I believe he is away." 
 
 " Is it very wrong of me? " Rosamund asked, cling- 
 ing to Dominej^'s arm. " I had a sudden feeling that 
 I must get back here. I wanted to see you again. 
 Every one has been so sweet and kind at Falmouth, 
 especially Nurse Alice here, but the}' weren't quite 
 the same thing. You are not angry? These people 
 who are sta^-ing here will not mind? " 
 
 " Of course not," he assured her cheerfully. 
 " They will be your guests. To-morrow you must 
 make friends with them all." 
 
 " There was a very beautiful woman," she said 
 timidly, " with red hair, who passed by just now. 
 She looked very angr}'. That was not because I have 
 come? " 
 
 " Why should it be? " he answered. " You have a 
 right here - — a better right than any one." 
 
 She drew a long sigh of contentment. 
 
 " Oh, but this is wonderful ! " she cried. " And 
 3'ou, dear — I shall call you Everard, mayn't I? — 
 v^ou look just as I hoped 3'Ou might. Will you take 
 me upstairs, please? Nurse, you can follow us." 
 
 She leaned heavily on his arm and even loitered on 
 the wa}', but her steps grew lighter as they ap- 
 proached her own apartment. Finally, as they 
 reached the corridor, she broke away from him and 
 tripped on with the gaiet}' almost of a child to the 
 door of her room. Then came a little cry of disap- 
 pointment as she flung open the door. Several maids
 
 i86 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 were there, busy with a refractory fire and removing 
 the covers from the furniture, but the room was half 
 full of smoke and entirely unprepared. 
 
 " Oh, how miserable ! " she exclaimed. " Everard, 
 what shall I do.?" 
 
 He threw open the door of his own apartment. A 
 bright fire was burning in the grate, the room was 
 warm and comfortable. She threw herself with a 
 little cry of delight into the huge Chesterfield drawn 
 up to the edge of the hearthrug. 
 
 " I can stay here, Everard, can't I, until you come 
 up to bed.'' " she pleaded. " And then you can sit and 
 talk to me, and tell me who is here and all about the 
 people. You have no idea how much better I am. 
 All my music has come back to me, and they say 
 that I play bridge ever so well. I shall love to help 
 you entertain." 
 
 The maid was slowly unfastening her mistress's 
 boots. Rosamund held up her foot for him to feel. 
 
 "See how cold I am!" she complained. "Please 
 rub it. I am going to have some supper up here 
 with nurse. Will one of you maids please go down 
 and see about it.'' What a lot of nice new things 
 you have, Everard ! " she added, looking around. 
 " And that picture of me from the drawing-room, 
 on the table ! " she cried, her eyes suddenly soft with 
 joy. " You dear thing ! What made you bring that 
 up.?" 
 
 " I wanted to have it here," he told her. 
 
 " I'm not so nice as that now," she sighed, a little 
 wistfully. 
 
 " Do not believe it," he answered. " You have
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 187 
 
 not changed in the least. You will be better-looking 
 still when you have been here for a few months." 
 
 She looked at him almost shyly — tenderly, jet 
 still with that gleam of aloofness in her eyes. 
 
 "I think," she murmured, "I shall be just what 
 you want me to be. I think you could make me just 
 what you want. Be very kind to me, please," she 
 begged, stretching her arms out to him. " I sup- 
 pose it is because I have been ill so long, but I feel 
 so helpless, and I love 3^our strength and I want you 
 to take care of me. Your own hands are quite cold," 
 she added anxiously. " You look pale, too. You're 
 not ill, Everard.'' " 
 
 " I am very well," he assured her, struggling to 
 keep his voice steady. " Forgive me now, won't you, 
 if I hurry away. There are guests here — rather 
 important guests. To-morrow you must come and 
 see them all." 
 
 " And help you ? " 
 
 " And help me." 
 
 Dominey made his escape and went reeling down 
 the corridor. At the top of the great quadrangular 
 landing he stopped and stood with half-closed eyes 
 for several moments. From downstairs he could hear 
 the sound of pleasantly raised voices, the music of a 
 piano in the distance, the click of billiard balls. He 
 waited until he had regained his self-possession. 
 Then, as he was on the point of descending, he saw 
 Seaman mounting the stairs. At a gesture he waited 
 for him, waited until he came, and, taking him by 
 the arm, led him to a great settee in a dark corner.
 
 i88 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Seaman had lost his usual blitheness. The good- 
 humoured smile played no longer about his lips. 
 
 " Where is Lady Dominey ? " he asked. 
 
 " In my room, waiting until her own is prepared." 
 
 Seaman's manner was unusually grave. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " you know very well that 
 when we walk in the great paths of life I am un- 
 scrupulous. In those other hours, alac ! I have a 
 weakness. — I love women." 
 
 " Well.? " Dominey muttered. 
 
 " I will admit," the other continued, " that you are 
 placed in a delicate.and trying position. Lady Dom- 
 iney seems disposed to offer to you the affection 
 which, notwithstanding their troubles together, she 
 doubtless felt for her husband. I risk your anger, 
 my friend, but I warn you to be very careful how 
 you encourage her." 
 
 A light flashed in Dominey's eyes. For the mo- 
 ment angry words seemed to tremble upon his lips. 
 Seaman's manner, however, was very gentle. He 
 courted no offence. 
 
 " If you were to take advantage of your position 
 with — with any other, I would shrug my shoulders 
 and stand on one side, but this mad Englishman's 
 wife, or rather his widow, has been mentally ill. She 
 is still weak-minded, just as she is tender-hearted. I 
 watched her as she passed through the hall with you 
 just now. She turns to you for love as a flower to 
 the sun after a long spell of cold, wet weather. Von 
 Ragastein, you are a man of honour. You must 
 find means to deal with this situation, however diffi- 
 cult it may become."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 189 
 
 Dominey had recovered from his first wave of weak- 
 ness. His companion's words excited no sentiment 
 of anger. He was conscious even of regarding him 
 with a greater feeling of kindness than ever before. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " you have shown me that 
 you are conscious of one dilemma in which I find 
 myself placed, and which I must confess is exercising 
 me to the utmost. Let me now advise you of an- 
 other. The Princess Eiderstrom has brought me an 
 autograph letter from the Kaiser, commanding me to 
 marry her." 
 
 " The situation," Seaman declared grimly, " but 
 for its serious side, would provide all the elements 
 for a Palais Royal farce. For the present, how- 
 ever, you have duties below. I have said the words 
 which were thumping against the walls of my 
 heart." 
 
 Their descent was opportune. Some of the local 
 guests were preparing to make their departure, and 
 Dominey was in time to receive their adieux. They 
 all left messages for Lady Dominey, spoke of a speedy 
 visit to her, and expressed themselves as delighted 
 to hear of her return and recovery. As the last car 
 rolled away, Carohne took her host's arm and led 
 him to a chimney seat by the huge log fire in the 
 inner hall. 
 
 " My dear Everard," she said, " you rer.ll}' are a 
 very terrible person," 
 
 " Exactly why.'' " he demanded, 
 
 " Your devotion to my sex," she continued, " is 
 flattering but far too catholic. Your return to Eng- 
 land appears to have done what we understood to
 
 igo THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 be impossible — restored your wife's reason. A 
 fiery-headed Hungarian Princess has pursued you 
 down here, and has now gone to her room in a tan- 
 trum because you left her side for a few minutes to 
 welcome your wife. And there remains our own sen- 
 timental little flirtation, a broken and, alas, a dis- 
 carded thing ! There is no doubt whatever, Everard, 
 that you are a verj' bad lot." 
 
 " You are distressing me terribly," Dominey con- 
 fessed, " but all the same, after a somewhat agitated 
 evening I must admit that I find it pleasant to talk 
 with some one who is not wielding the lightnings. 
 May I have a whisky and soda? " 
 
 " Bring me one, too, please," Caroline begged. 
 " I fear that it will seriousl}' impair the note which 
 I had intended to strike in our conversation, but I 
 am thirsty. And a handful of those Turkish ciga- 
 rettes, too. You can devote yourself to me with a 
 perfectly clear conscience. Your most distinguished 
 guest has found a task after his own heart. He has 
 got Henry in a corner of the billiard-room and is 
 trying to convince him of what I am sure the dear 
 man really believes himself — that Germany's in- 
 tentions towards England are of a particularly dove- 
 like nature. Your Right Honourable guest has gone 
 to bed, and Eddy Pelham is playing billiards with 
 Mr. Mangan. Every one is happy. You can de- 
 vote yourself to soothing my wounded vanity, to say 
 nothing of my broken heart." 
 
 " Always gibing at me," Dominey gi-umbled. 
 
 " Not always," she answered quieth", raising her 
 eyes for a moment. " There was a time, Everard,
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 191 
 
 before that terrible tragedy — the last time you 
 stayed at Dunratter — when I didn't gibe." 
 
 " When, on the contrary, you were sweetness it- 
 self," he reflected. 
 
 She sighed reminiscently. 
 
 " That was a wonderful month," she murmured. 
 " I think it was then for the first time that I saw 
 traces of something in you which I suppose accounts 
 for your being what 3'ou are to-day." 
 
 " You think that I have changed, then? " 
 
 She looked him in the eyes. 
 
 " I sometimes find it difficult to believe," she ad- 
 mitted, " that you are the same man." 
 
 He turned away to reach for his whisky and soda. 
 
 " As a matter of curiosity," he asked, " why.'' " 
 
 " To begin with, then," she commented, " you have 
 become almost a precisian in your speech. You 
 used to be rather slang\' at times." 
 
 "Whr.t else.?" 
 
 " You used always to clip your final g's." 
 
 " Shocking habit," he murmured. " I cured my- 
 self of that by reading aloud in the bush. — Go on, 
 please? " 
 
 " You carr\' 3'ourself so much more stiffly. Some- 
 times you have the air of being surprised that you 
 ai*e not in uniform." 
 
 " Trifles, all these things," he declared. " Now 
 for something serious? " 
 
 " The serious things are pretty good," she ad- 
 mitted. " You used to drink whiskys and sodas at 
 all hours of the day, and quite as much wine as was 
 good for you at dinner time. Now, although you are
 
 192 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 a wonderful host, you scarcely take anything your- 
 self." 
 
 " You should see me at the port," he told her, 
 " when you ladies are well out of the way ! Some 
 more of the good, please? " 
 
 " All your best qualities seem to have come to the 
 surface," she went on, " and I think that the way 
 you have come back and faced it all is simply won- 
 derful. Tell me, if that man's body should be dis- 
 covered after all these years, would you be charged 
 with manslaughter.'' " 
 
 He shook his head. " I do not think so, Caro- 
 line." 
 
 " Everard." 
 
 "Well.?" 
 
 " Did you kill Roger Unthank? " 
 
 A portion of the burning log fell on to the hearth. 
 Then there was silence. They heard the click of 
 the billiard balls in the adjoining room. Dominey 
 leaned forward and with a pair of small tongs re- 
 placed the burning wood upon the fire. Suddenly he 
 felt his hands clasped by his companion's. 
 
 " Everard dear," she said, " I am so sorry. You 
 came to me a little tired to-night, didn't you.f* I 
 think that you needed sympathy, and here I am ask- 
 ing you once more that horrible question. Forget it, 
 please. Talk to me like your old dear self. Tell 
 me about Rosamund's return.'' Is she really recov- 
 ered, do you think.'' " 
 
 " I saw her only for a few minutes," Dominey re- 
 plied, " but she seemed to me absolutely better. I 
 must say that the weekl}' reports I have received
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 193 
 
 from the nursing home quite prepared me for a great 
 improvement. She is very frail, and her eyes still 
 have that restless look, but she talks quite coher- 
 ently." 
 
 " What about that horrible woman ? " 
 
 " I have pensioned :Mrs. Unthank. To my sur- 
 prise I hear that she is still living in the village." 
 
 " And your ghost? " 
 
 " Not a single howl all the time that Rosamund 
 has been away." 
 
 " There is one thing more," Caroline began hesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 That one thing lacked forever the clothing of 
 words. There came a curious, almost a dramatic m- 
 terruption. Through the silence of the hall there 
 pealed the summons of the great bell which hung over 
 the front door. Dominey glanced at the clock in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Midnight ! " he exclaimed. " Who on earth can 
 be coming here at this time of night ! " 
 
 Instinctively they both rose to their feet. A man- 
 servant had turned the great kev, drawn the bolts, 
 and opened the door with difficulty. Little flakes of 
 snow and a gust of icy wind swept into the hall, and 
 following them the figure of a man, white from head 
 to foot, his hair tossed with the wind, almost un- 
 recognisable after his struggle. 
 
 " Why, Doctor Harrison ! " Dominey cried, taking 
 a quick step forward. " What brings you here at 
 this time of night ! " 
 
 The doctor leaned upon his stick for a moment. 
 He was out of breath, and the melting snow was
 
 194 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 pouring from his clothes on to the oak floor. They 
 relieved him of his coat and dragged him towards the 
 fire. 
 
 " I must apologise for disturbing you at such an 
 hour," he said, as he took the tumbler which Dom- 
 incy pressed into his hand. " I have only just re- 
 ceived Lady Dominey's telegram. I had to see you 
 — at once."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 The doctor, with hi-s usual bluntness, did not hesi- 
 tate to make it known that this unusual visit was of 
 a private nature. Caroline promptly withdrew, and 
 the two men were left alone in the great hall. The 
 lights in the billiard-room and drawing-room were 
 extinguished. Every one in the house except a few 
 servants had retired. 
 
 " Sir Everard," the doctor began, " this return of 
 Lady Dominey's has taken me altogether by sur- 
 prise. I had intended to-morrow morning to discuss 
 the situation with you." 
 
 " I am most anxious to hear your report," Dom- 
 iney said. 
 
 " My report is good," was the confident answer. 
 " Although I would not have allowed her to have left 
 the nursing home so suddenly had I known, there was 
 nothing to keep her there. Lady Dominey, except 
 for one hallucination, is in perfect health, mentally 
 and phvsically." 
 
 " And this one hallucination ? " 
 
 " That you are not her husband." 
 
 Dominey was silent for a moment. Then he 
 laughed a little unnaturally. 
 
 " Can a person be perfectly sane," he asked, " and 
 yet be subject to an hallucination which must make 
 the whole of her surroundings seem unreal.? "
 
 196 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Lady Dominey is perfectly sane," the doctor an- 
 swered bluntly, " and as for that hallucination, it is 
 up to you to dispel it." 
 
 " Perhaps you can give me some advice? " Dominey 
 suggested. 
 
 " I can, and I am going to be perfectly frank with 
 you," the doctor replied. " To begin with then, 
 there are certain obvious changes in you which might 
 well minister to Lady Dominey's hallucination. For 
 instance, you have been in England now some eight 
 months, during which time you have revealed an 
 entirely new personality. You seem to have got rid 
 " of every one of your bad habits, you drink moder- 
 ately, as a gentleman should, you have subdued your 
 violent temper, and you have collected around you, 
 where your personality could be the only inducement, 
 friends of distinction and interest. This is not at 
 all what one expected from the Everard Dominey 
 who scuttled out of England a dozen years ago." 
 
 " You are excusing my wife," Dominey remarked. 
 
 " She needs no excuses," was the brusque reply. 
 *' She has been a long-enduring and faithful woman, 
 suffering from a cruel illness, brought on, to take 
 the kindest view of it, through your clumsiness and 
 lack of discretion. Like all good women, forgiveness 
 is second nature to her. It has now become her wish 
 to take her proper place in life." 
 
 " But if her hallucination continues," Dominey 
 asked, " if she seriously doubts that I am indeed her 
 husband, how can she do that ? " 
 
 " That is the problem you and I have to face," 
 the doctor said sternly. " The fact that your wife
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 197 
 
 has been willing to return here to you, whilst still 
 subject to that hallucination, is a view of the matter 
 which I can neither discuss nor understand. I am 
 here to-night, though, to lay a charge upon you. 
 You have to remember that your wife needs still one 
 step towards a perfect recovery, and until that step 
 has been surmounted you have a very difficult but 
 imperative task." 
 
 Dominey set his teeth for a moment. He felt the 
 doctor's keen grey eyes glowering from under his 
 shaggy eyebrows as he leaned forward, his hands upon 
 his knees. 
 
 " You mean," Dominey suggested quietly, " that 
 until that hallucination has passed we must remain 
 upon the same terms as we have done since my arrival 
 home." 
 
 " You've got it," the doctor assented. " It's a 
 tangled-up position, but we've got to deal with it — 
 or rather you have. I can assure you," he went on, 
 " that all her other delusions have gone. She speaks 
 of the ghost of Roger Unthank, of the cries at night, 
 of his mysterious death, as parts of a painful past. 
 She is quite conscious of her several attempts upon 
 your life and bitterly regrets them. Now we come 
 to the real danger. She appears to be possessed of 
 a passionate devotion towards you, whilst still believ- 
 ing that you are not her husband." 
 
 Dominey pushed his chair back from the fire as 
 though he felt the heat. His eyes seemed glued upon 
 the doctor's. 
 
 " I do not pretend," the latter continued gravely, 
 " to account for that, but it is my duty to warn you,
 
 igS THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Sir Everard, that that devotion may lead her to 
 great lengths. Lady Dominey is naturally of an 
 exceedingly affectionate disposition, and this return 
 to a stronger condition of physical health and a 
 fuller share of human feelings has probably reawak- 
 ened all those tendencies which her growing fondness 
 for you and your position as her reputed husband 
 make perfectly natural. I warn you, Sir Everard, 
 that you may find your position an exceedingly diffi- 
 cult one, but, difficult though it may be, there is a 
 plain duty before you. Keep and encourage your 
 wife's affection if you can, but let it be a charge upon 
 you that whilst the hallucination remains that affec- 
 tion must never pass certain bounds. Lady Dominey 
 is a good and a sweet woman. If she woke up one 
 morning with that hallucination still in her mind, and 
 any sense of guilt on her conscience, all our labours 
 for these last months might well be wasted, and she 
 herself might very possibly end her days in a mad- 
 house." 
 
 " Doctor," Dominey said firml}'. " I appreciate 
 every word you say. You can rely upon me." 
 
 The doctor looked at him. 
 
 " I believe I can," he admitted, with a sigh of re- 
 lief. " I am glad of it." 
 
 " There is just one more phase of the position," 
 Dominey went on, after a pause. " Supposing this 
 hallucination of hers should pass? Supposing she 
 should suddenly become convinced that I am her hus- 
 band.? " 
 
 " In that case," the doctor replied earnestly, " the 
 position would be exactly reversed, and it would be
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 199 
 
 just as important for you not to check the affection 
 wliich she might offer to you as it would be in the 
 other case for you to accept it. The moment she 
 reahses, with her present predispositions, that you 
 really are her lawful husband, that moment will be 
 the beginning of a new life for her." 
 
 Somehow they both seemed to feel that the last 
 words had been spoken. After a brief pause, the 
 doctor helped himself to a farewell drink, filled his 
 pipe and stood up. The car which Dominey had 
 ordered from the garage was already standing at 
 the door. It was curious how both of them seemed 
 disinclined to refer again even indirectly to the sub- 
 ject which they had been discussing. 
 
 " Very good of you to send me back," the doctor 
 said gruffly. " I started out all right, but it was a 
 drear walk across the marshes." 
 
 " I am ver}' grateful to you for coming," Dominey 
 replied, with obvious sincerity. " You will come and 
 have a look at the patient in a day or two.'' " 
 
 " I'll stroll across as soon as you've got rid of 
 some of this houseful," the doctor promised. " Good 
 night ! " 
 
 The two men parted, and curiously enough Dom- 
 iney was conscious that with those few awkward 
 words of farewell some part of the incipient antagon- 
 ism between them had been buried. Left to himself, 
 he wandered for some moments up and down the 
 great, dimly lit hall. A strange restlessness seemed 
 to have fastened itself upon him. He stood for a 
 time by the dj'ing fire, watching the grey ashes, 
 stirred uneasily by the wind which howled down the
 
 200 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 chimney. Then he strolled to a different part of 
 the hall, and one by one he turned on, by means of 
 the electric switches, the newly installed lights which 
 hung above the sombre oil pictures upon the wall. 
 He looked into the faces of some of these dead 
 Domineys, trying to recall what he had heard of their 
 history, and dwelling longest upon a gallant of the 
 Stuart epoch, whose misdeeds had supplied material 
 for every intimate chronicler of those da3^s. When 
 at last the sight of a sleepy manservant hovering in 
 the background forced his steps upstairs, he still lin- 
 gered for a few moments in the corridor and turned 
 the handle of his bedroom door with almost reluctant 
 fingers. His heart gave a great jump as he realised 
 that there was some one there. He stood for a mo- 
 ment upon the threshold, then laughed shortly to him- 
 self at his foolish imagining. It was his servant who 
 was patiently awaiting his arrival. 
 
 " You can go to bed, Dickens," he directed. " I 
 shall not want you again to-night. We shoot in the 
 morning." 
 
 The man silently took his leave, and Dominey com- 
 menced his preparations for bed. He was in no hu- 
 mour for sleep, however, and, still attired in his shirt 
 and trousers, he wrapped a dressing-gown around 
 him, drew a reading lamp to his side, and threw him- 
 self into an easA'-chair, a book in his hand. It was 
 some time before he realised that the volume was up- 
 side down, and even when he had righted it, the words 
 he saw had no meaning for him. All the time a queer 
 procession of women's faces was passing before his 
 eyes — Caroline, with her half-flirtatious, wholly sen-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 201 
 
 timental bon camaraderie; Stephanie, with her vohip- 
 tuous figure and passion-lit eyes ; and then, blotting 
 the others utterly out of his thoughts and memory, 
 Rosamund, with all the sweetness of life shining out 
 of her eager face. He saw her as she had come to 
 him last, with that little unspoken cry upon her trem- 
 ulous lips, and the haunting appeal in her soft eyes. 
 All other memories faded away. They were as 
 though they had never been. Those dreary years of 
 exile in Africa, the day by day tension of his precari- 
 ous life, were absolutely forgotten. His heart was 
 calling all the time for an unknown boon. He felt 
 himself immeshed in a world of cobwebs, of weakness 
 more potent than all his boasted strength. Then he 
 suddenly felt that the madness which he had begun to 
 fear had really come. It was the thing for which he 
 longed yet dreaded most — the faint click, the soft 
 withdrawal of the panel, actually pushed back by a 
 pair of white hands. Rosamund herself was there. 
 Her eyes shone at him, mystically, wonderfully. Her 
 lips were parted in a delightful smile, a smile in which 
 there was a spice of girlish mischief. She turned for 
 a moment to close the panel. Then she came towards 
 him with her finger upraised. 
 
 " I cannot sleep," she said softly. " Do you mind 
 my coming for a few minutes .'' " 
 
 " Of course not," he answered. " Come and sit 
 down." 
 
 She curled up in his easy-chair. 
 
 " Just for a moment," she murmured contentedh\ 
 " Give me your hands, dear. But how cold ! You 
 must come nearer to the fire yourself."
 
 202 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 He sat on the arm of her chair, and she stroked 
 his head with her hands. 
 
 " You were not afraid, then," she asked, " when 
 you saw me come through the panel? " 
 
 " I should never be afraid of any harm that you 
 might bring me, dear," he assured her. 
 
 " Because all that foolishness is really gone," she 
 continued eagerly. " I know that whatever hap- 
 pened to poor Roger, it was not you who killed him. 
 Even if I heard his ghost calling again to-night, I 
 should have no fear. I can't think why I ever wanted 
 to hurt 3^ou, Everard. I am sure that I always loved 
 you." 
 
 His arm went very softly around her. She re- 
 sponded to his embrace without hesitation. Her 
 cheek rested upon his shoulder, he felt the warmth of 
 her arm through her white, fur-lined dressing-gown. 
 
 " Why do you doubt any longer then," he asked 
 hoarsely, " that I am your husband.'' " 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 " All, but I know you are not," she answered. " Is 
 it w^rong of me to feel what I do for you, I wonder? 
 You are so like yet so unlike him. He is dead. He 
 died in Africa. Isn't it strange that I should know 
 it? But I do!" 
 
 " But who am I then? " he whispered. 
 
 She looked at him pitifully. 
 
 " I do not know," she confessed, " but you are kind 
 to me, and when I feel you are near I am happy. It 
 is because I wanted to see you that I would not stay 
 any longer at the nursing home. That must mean 
 that I am very fond of you."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 203 
 
 " You are not afraid," he asked, " to be here alone 
 with me? " 
 
 She put her other arm around his neck and drew 
 his face down. 
 
 " I am not afraid," she assured him. " I am 
 happy. — But, dear, what is the matter.'' A mo- 
 ment ago you were cold. Now your head is wet, your 
 hands are burning. Are you not happy because I 
 am here.'' " 
 
 Her lips were seeking his. His own touched them 
 for a moment. Then he kissed her on both cheeks. 
 She made a little grimace. 
 
 " I am afraid," she said, " that you are not really 
 fond of me." 
 
 " Can't you believe," he asked hoarsely, " that I am 
 really Everard — your husband? Look at me. 
 Can't you feel that you have loved me before? " 
 
 She shook her head a little sadly. 
 
 "No, you are not Everard," she sighed; "but," 
 she added, her eyes lighting up, " you bring me love 
 and happiness and life, and — " 
 
 A few seconds before, Dominey felt from his soul 
 that he would have welcomed an earthquake, a thun- 
 derbolt, the crumbling of the floor beneath his feet to 
 have been spared the torture of her sweet importu- 
 nities. Yet nothing so horrible as this interruption 
 Avhich really came could ever have presented itself be- 
 fore his mind. Half in his arms, with her head 
 thrown back, listening — he, too, horrified, convulsed 
 for a moment even with real physical fear — they 
 heard the silence of the night broken by that one aw- 
 ful cry, the cry of a man's soul in torment, imprisoned
 
 204 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 in the jaws of a beast. They listened to it together 
 until its echoes died away. Then what was, perhaps, 
 the most astonishing thing of all, she nodded her head 
 slowly, unperturbed, unterrified. 
 
 " You see," she said, " I must go back. He will 
 not let me stay here. He must think that you are 
 Everard. It is only I who know that you are not." 
 
 She slipped from the chair, kissed him, and, walk- 
 ing quite firmly across the floor, touched the spring 
 and passed through the panel. Even then she turned 
 around and waved a little good-bye to him. There 
 was no sign of fear in her face; only a little dumb 
 disappointment. The panel glided to and shut out 
 the vision of her. Dominey held his head like a man 
 who fears madness.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Dawn the next morning was heralded by only a thin 
 line of red parting the masses of black-grey snow 
 clouds which still hung low down in the east. The 
 wind had dropped, and there was something ghostly 
 about the still twilight as Dominey issued from the 
 back regions and made his way through the untrodden 
 snow round to the side of the house underneath Rosa- 
 mund's window. A little exclamation broke from his 
 lips as he stood there. From the terraced walk, down 
 the steps, and straight across the park to the corner 
 of the Black Wood, were fresh tracks. The cry had 
 been no fantasy. Somebody or something had passed 
 from the Black Wood and back again to this spot in 
 the night. 
 
 Dominey, curiously excited by his discovery, exam- 
 ined the footmarks eagerly, then followed them to the 
 corner of the wood. Here and there they puzzled 
 him. They were neither like human footsteps or the 
 track of an}' known animal. At the edge of the wood 
 they seemed to vanish into the heart of a great mass 
 of brambles, from which here and there the snow had 
 been shaken off. There was no sign of any pathway ; 
 if ever there had been one, the neglect of years had 
 obliterated it. Bracken, brambles, shrubs and bushes
 
 2o6 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 had grown up and degenerated, only to be succeeded 
 by a ranker and more dense form of undergrowth. 
 Many of the trees, although they were still plentiful, 
 had been blown down and left to rot on the ground. 
 The place was silent except for the slow drip of fall- 
 ing snow from the drooping leaves. He took one 
 more cautious step forward and found himself slowly 
 sinking. Black mud was oozing up through the snow 
 where he had set his feet. He was just able to 
 scramble back. Picking his way with great caution, 
 he commenced a leisurely perambulation of the whole 
 of the outside of the wood. 
 
 Heggs, the junior keeper, an hour or so later, went 
 over the gun rack once more, tapped the empty cases, 
 and turned towards Middleton, who was sitting in a 
 chair before the fire, smoking his pipe. 
 
 " I can't find master's number two gun, Mr. Mid- 
 dleton," he announced. " That's missing." 
 
 " Look again, lad," the old keeper directed, remov- 
 ing the pipe from his mouth. " The master was 
 shooting with it yesterday. Look amongst those 
 loose 'uns at the far end of the rack. It must be 
 somewhere there." 
 
 " Well, that isn't," the young man replied obsti- 
 nately. 
 
 The door of the room was suddenly opened, and 
 Dominey entered with the missing gun under his arm. 
 Middleton rose to his feet at once and laid down his 
 pipe. Surprise kept him temporarily silent. 
 
 " I want you to come this way with me for a mo- 
 ment," his master ordered. 
 
 The keeper took up his hat and stick and followed.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 207 
 
 Dominey led him to where the tracks had halted on 
 the gravel outside Rosamund's window and pointed 
 across to the Black Wood. 
 
 " What do you make of those? " he enquired. 
 
 Middleton did not hesitate. He shook his head 
 gravely. 
 
 " Was anything heerd last night, sir? " 
 
 " There was an infernal yell underneath this win- 
 dow." 
 
 " That was the spirit of Roger Unthank, for sure," 
 Middleton pronounced, with a little shudder. 
 " When he do come out of that wood, he do call." 
 
 " Spirits," his master pointed out, " do not leave 
 tracks like that behind." 
 
 Middleton considered the matter. 
 
 " They do say hereabout," he confided, " that the 
 spirit of Roger Unthank have been taken possession 
 of by some sort of great animal, and that it do come 
 here now and then to be fed." 
 
 " By whom ? " Dominey enquired patiently. 
 
 " Why, by Mrs. Unthank." 
 
 " Mrs. Unthank has not been in this house for 
 many months. From the day she left until last night, 
 so far as I can gather, nothing has been heard of this 
 ghost, or beast, or whatever it is." 
 
 " That do seem queer, surely," Middleton admitted. 
 
 Dominey followed the tracks with his eyes to the 
 wood and back again. 
 
 " Middleton," he said, " I am learning something 
 about spirits. It seems that the}^ not only make 
 tracks, but they require feeding. Perhaps if that is 
 so they can feel a charge of shot inside them."
 
 2o8 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 The old man seemed for a moment to stiffen with 
 slow horror. 
 
 " You wouldn't shoot at it, Squire? " he gasped. 
 
 " I should have done so this morning if I had had a 
 chance," Dominey replied. " When the weather is a 
 little drier, I am going to make my way into that 
 wood, ^Middleton, with a rifle under my arm." 
 
 " Then as God's above, you'll never come out, 
 Squire ! " was the solemn reply. 
 
 " We will see," Dominey muttered. " I have 
 hacked my way through some queer country in 
 Africa." 
 
 " There's nowt like this wood in the world, sir," 
 the old man asserted doggedly. " The bottom's rot- 
 ten from end to end and the top's all poisonous. The 
 birds die there on the trees. It's chockful of reptiles 
 and unclean things, with green and purple fungi, two 
 feet high, with poison in the very sniff of them. The 
 man who enters that wood goes to his grave." 
 
 " Nevertheless," Dominey said firmly, " within a 
 very short time I am going to solve the mystery of 
 this nocturnal visitor." 
 
 They returned to the house, side by side. Just be- 
 fore they entered, Dominey turned to his companion. 
 
 " Middleton," he said, " you keep up the good old 
 customs, I suppose, and spend half an hour at the 
 ' Dominey Arms ' now and then ? " 
 
 " Most ever}' night of my life, sir," the old man 
 replied, " from eight till nine. I'm a man of regular 
 habits, and that do seem right to me that with the 
 work done right and proper a man should have his 
 relaxation."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 209 
 
 " That is right, John," Domine}^ assented. " Next 
 time you are there, don't forget to mention that I am 
 going to have that wood looked through. I should 
 like it to get about, you understand? " 
 
 " That'll fair flummox the folk," was the doubtful 
 reply, " but I'll let 'em know. Squire. There'll be a 
 rare bit of talk, I can promise you that." 
 
 Dominey handed over his gun, went to his room, 
 bathed and changed, and descended for breakfast. 
 There was a sudden hush as he entered, which he very 
 well understood. Every one began to talk about the 
 prospect of the day's sport. Dominey helped himself 
 from the sideboard and took his place at the table. 
 
 " I hope," he said, " that our very latest thing in 
 ghosts did not disturb anybody." 
 
 " We all seem to have heard the same thing," the 
 Cabinet Minister observed, with interest, — " a most 
 appalling and unearthl}' cry. I have lately joined 
 every society connected with spooks and find them a 
 fascinating study." 
 
 " If you want to investigate," Domine}- observed, 
 as he helped himself to coff^ee, " 3'ou can bring out 
 a revolver and prowl about with me one night. From 
 the time when I was a kid, before I went to Eton, up 
 till when I left here for Africa, we had a series of 
 highW respectable and well-behaved ghosts, who were 
 a credit to the family and of whom we were somewhat 
 proud. This latest spook, however, is something 
 quite outside the pale." 
 
 "Has he a history?" Mr. Watson asked, with 
 interest. 
 
 " I am informed," Dominey replied, " that he is the
 
 2IO THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 spirit of a schoolmaster who once lived here, and for 
 whose departure from the world I am supposed to be 
 responsible. Such a spook is neither a credit nor a 
 comfort to the family." 
 
 Their host spoke with such an absolute absenee 
 of emotion that every one was conscious of a curious 
 reluctance to abandon a subject full of such fasci- 
 nating possibilities. Terniloff was the only one, how- 
 ever, who made a suggestion. 
 
 " We might have a battue in the wood," he pro- 
 posed. 
 
 " I am not sure," Dominey told them, " that the 
 character of the wood is not more interesting than the 
 ghost who is supposed to dwell in it. You remember 
 how terrified the beaters were yesterday at the bare 
 suggestion of entering it.'' For generations it has 
 been held unclean. It is certainly most unsafe. I 
 went in over my knees on the outskirts of it this morn- 
 ing. — Shall we say half-past ten in the gun room.? " 
 
 Seaman followed his host out of the room. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " you must not allow these 
 local circumstances to occupy too large a share of 
 your thoughts. It is true that these are the days of 
 your relaxation. Still, there is the Princess for you 
 to think of. After all, she has us in her power. The 
 merest whisper in Downing Street, and behold, catas- 
 trophe ! " 
 
 Dominey took his friend's arm. 
 
 "Look here. Seaman," he rejoined, "it's easy 
 enough to say there is the Princess to be considered, 
 but will you kindl}^ tell me what on earth more I can 
 do to make her see the position.'^ Necessity demands
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 211 
 
 that I should be on the best of terms with Lady Domi- 
 ney and that I should not make m3'self in any way 
 conspicuous with the Princess." 
 
 " I am not sure," Seaman reflected, " that the 
 terms you are on with Lady Dominey matter very 
 much to any one. So far as regards the Princess, she 
 is an impulsive and passionate person, but she is also 
 grande dame and a diplomatist. I see no reason why 
 you should not marr}^ her secretly in London, in the 
 name of Everard Dominey, and have the ceremony 
 repeated under your rightful name later on." 
 
 They had paused to help themselves to cigarettes, 
 which were displayed with a cabinet of cigars on a 
 round table in the hall. Dominey waited for a mo- 
 ment before he answered. 
 
 " Has the Princess confided to you that that is her 
 wish? " he asked. 
 
 " Something of the sort," Seaman acknowledged. 
 " She wishes the suggestion, however, to come from 
 you." 
 
 " And your advice.'' " 
 
 Seaman blew out a little cloud of cigar smoke. 
 
 " My friend," he confessed, " I am a little afraid of 
 the Princess. I ask you no questions as to your own 
 feelings with regard to her. I take it for granted 
 that as a man of honour it will be your duty to offer 
 her your hand in marriage, sooner or later. I see no 
 harm in anticipating a few months, if by that means 
 we can pacify her. Tcrniloff would arrange it at 
 the Embass}'. He is devoted to her, and it will 
 strengthen your position with him." 
 
 Dominey turned away towards the stairs.
 
 212 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " We will discuss this again before we leave," he 
 said gloomil3\ 
 
 Dominey was admitted at once by her maid into 
 his wife's sitting-room. Rosamund, in a charming 
 morning robe of pale blue lined with grey fur, had 
 just finished breakfast. She held out her hands to 
 him with a delighted little cry of welcome. 
 
 " How nice of you to come, Everard ! " she ex- 
 claimed. " I was hoping I should see you for a mo- 
 ment before you went off." 
 
 He raised her fingers to his lips and sat down by 
 her side. She seemed entirely delighted by his pres- 
 ence, and he felt instinctively that she was quite un- 
 affected by the event of the night before. 
 
 " You slept well? " he enquired. 
 
 " Perfectly," she ans^rered. 
 
 He tackled the subject bravely, as he had made up 
 his mind to on every opportunity. 
 
 " You do not lie awake thinking of our nocturnal 
 visitor, then? " 
 
 " Not for one moment. Y^ou see," she went on 
 conversationally, " if you were really Everard, then I 
 might be frightened, for some day or other I feel that 
 if Everard comes here, the spirit of Roger Unthank 
 will do him some sort of mischief." 
 
 "Why?" he asked. 
 
 " Y"ou don't know about these things, of course," 
 she went on, " but Roger Unthank was in love with 
 me, although I had scarcely ever spoken to him, be- 
 fore I married Everard. I think I told you that 
 much yesterday, didn't I? After I was married, the 
 poor man nearly went out of his mind. He gave up
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 213 
 
 his work and used to haunt the park lierc. One eve- 
 ning Everard caught him and they fought, and Roger 
 Unthank was never seen again. I tliink that any one 
 around here would tell you," she went on, dropping 
 her voice a little, " that Everard killed Roger and 
 threw him into one of those swampy places near the 
 Black Wood, where a body sinks and sinks and noth- 
 ing is ever seen of it again." 
 
 " I do not believe he did anything of the sort," 
 Dominey declared. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," she replied doubtfully. 
 " Everard had a terrible temper, and that night he 
 came home covered with blood, looking — awful ! It 
 was the night when I was taken ill." 
 
 " Well, no more tragedies," he insisted. " I have 
 come up to remind 3"ou that we have guests here. 
 When are you coming down to see them.'* " 
 
 She laughed like a child. 
 
 " You say ' we ' just as though 3'ou were really my 
 husband," she declared. 
 
 " You must not tell any one else of your fancy," 
 he warned her. 
 
 She acquiesced at once. 
 
 " Oh, I quite understand," she assured him. " I 
 shall be ver}', very careful. And, Everard, 3'ou have 
 such clevei guests, not at all the sort of people my 
 Everard would have had here, and I have been out of 
 the world for so long, that I am afraid I sha'n't be 
 able to talk to them. Nurse Alice is tremendously 
 impressed. I am sure I should be terrified to sit at 
 the end of the table, and Caroline will hate not being 
 hostess any longer. Let me come down at tea-time
 
 214 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 and after dinner, and slip into things gradually'. 
 You can easily say that I am still an invalid, though 
 of course I'm not at all." 
 
 " You shall do exactly as you choose," he promised, 
 as he took his leave. 
 
 So when the shooting party tramped into the hall 
 that afternoon, a little weary, but flushed with exer- 
 cise and the pleasure of the day's sport, they found, 
 seated in a corner of the room, behind the great 
 round table upon which tea was set out, a rather pale 
 but extraordinarily childlike and fascinating woman, 
 with large, sweet eyes which seemed to be begging for 
 their protection and sympathy as she rose hesitat- 
 ingly to her feet. Dominey was by her side in a mo- 
 ment, and his first few w^ords of introduction brought 
 every one around her. She said very little, but what 
 she said was delightfully natural and gracious. 
 
 " It has been so kind of you," she said to Caroline, 
 " to help my husband entertain his guests. I am very 
 much better, but I have been ill for so long that I 
 have forgotten a great many things, and I should be 
 a very poor hostess. But I want to make tea for 
 3'ou, please, and I want you all to tell me how many 
 pheasants you have shot." 
 
 TernilofF seated himself on the settee by her side. 
 
 " I am going to help you in this complicated task," 
 he declared. " I am sure those sugar tongs are too 
 heavy for you to wield alone." 
 
 She laughed at him gaily. 
 
 " But I am not really delicate at all," she assured 
 him. " I have had a very bad illness, but I am quite 
 strong again."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 215 
 
 " Then I will find some other excuse for sitting 
 here," he said. " I will tell you all about the high 
 pheasants your husband killed, and about the wood- 
 cock he brought down after we had all missed it." 
 
 " I shall love to hear about that," she assented. 
 " How much sugar, please, and will you pass those 
 hot muffins to the Princess.'' And please touch that 
 bell. I shall want more hot water. I expect you are 
 all very thirsty. I am so glad to be here with you."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Arm in arm, Prince Terniloff and his host climbed 
 the snow-covered slope at the back of a long fir plan- 
 tation, towards the little beflagged sticks which indi- 
 cated their stand. There was not a human being in 
 sight, for the rest of the guns had chosen a steeper 
 but somewhat less circuitous route. 
 
 " Von Ragastein," the Ambassador said, " I am go- 
 ing to give myself the luxui'j of calling you by your 
 name. You know my one weakness, a weakness which 
 in my younger days very nearly drove me out of 
 diplomacy. I detest espiona_ge in every shape and 
 form, even where it is necessary. So far as you are 
 concerned, my young friend," he went on, " I think 
 your position ridiculous. I have sent a private de- 
 spatch to Potsdam, in which I have expressed that 
 opinion." 
 
 " So far," Dominey remarked, " I have not been 
 overv.orked." 
 
 " My dear young friend," the Prince continued, 
 " you have not been overworked because there has 
 been no legitimate work for you to do. There will 
 be none. There could be no possible advantage ac- 
 cruing from your labours here to compensate for the 
 very bad effect wliich the discovery of your true name 
 and position would have in the English Cabinet."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 217 
 
 " I must ask you to remember," Domincy begged, 
 " that I am here as a blind servant of the Father- 
 land. I simply obey orders." 
 
 " I will grant that freely," the Prince consented. 
 " But to continue. I am now at the end of my first 
 year in this country. I feel able to congratulate my- 
 self upon a certain measure of success. From that 
 part of the Cabinet with whom I have had to do, I 
 have received nothing but encouragement in my ef- 
 forts to promote a better understanding between our 
 two countries." 
 
 " The sky certainly seems clear enough just now," 
 agreed Dominey. 
 
 " I have convinced myself," the Prince said em- 
 phatically, " that there is a genuine and solid desire 
 for peace with Germany existing in Downing Street. 
 In every argument I have had, in every concession I 
 have asked for, I have been met with a sincere desire 
 to foster the growing friendship between our coun- 
 tries. I am proud of my work here. Von Ragastein. 
 I believe that I have brought Germany and England 
 nearer together than they have been since the days 
 of the Boer War." 
 
 " You are sure, sir," Dominey asked, " that you 
 are not confusing personal popularity with national 
 sentiment? " 
 
 " I am sure of it," the Ambassador answered 
 gravely. " Such popularity as I may have achieved 
 here has been due to an appreciation of the more 
 healthy state of world politics now existing. It has 
 been my great pleasure to trace the result of my 
 work in a manuscript of memoirs, which some day.
 
 2i8 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 when peace is firmly establislied between our two 
 countries, I shall cause to be published. I have put 
 on record there evidences of the really genuine senti- 
 ment in favour of peace which I have found amongst 
 the present Cabinet." 
 
 " I should esteem it an immense privilege," Domi- 
 ney said, " to be given a private reading of these 
 memoirs." 
 
 " That may be arranged," was the suave reply. 
 " In the meantime. Von Ragastein, I want you to re- 
 consider your position here." 
 
 " My position is not voluntary," Dominey re- 
 peated. " I am acting under orders." 
 
 " Precisely," the other acquiesced, " but matters 
 have changed very much during the last six months. 
 Even at the risk of offending France, England is 
 showing wonderful pliability with regard to our claims 
 in Morocco. Every prospect of disagreement be- 
 tween our two countries upon any vital matter has 
 now disappeared." 
 
 " Unless," Dominey said thoughtfully, " the desire 
 for war should come, not from Downing Street but 
 from Potsdam." 
 
 " We serve an honourable master," TernilofF de- 
 clared sternly, " and he has shown me his mind. His 
 will is for peace, and for the great triumphs to which 
 our country is already entitled by reason of her su- 
 premacy in industry, in commerce, in character and 
 in genius. These are the weapons which will make 
 Germany the greatest Power in the world. No em- 
 pire has ever hewn its way to permanent glory by the 
 sword a'lone. We have reached our stations, I see.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 219 
 
 Come to me after tliis drive is finished, my liost. All 
 that I have said so far has been by way of prelude." 
 
 The weather had turned drier, the snow was crisp, 
 and a little party of women from the Hall reached the 
 guns before the beaters were through the wood. 
 Caroline and Stephanie both took their places by 
 Dominey's side. The former, however, after a few 
 minutes passed on to Terniloff's stand. Stephanie 
 and Dominey were alone for the first time since their 
 stormy interview in the library. 
 
 " Has Maurice been talking to you.'' " she asked a 
 little abruptly. 
 
 " His Excellency and I are, to tell you the truth," 
 Dominey confessed, " in the midst of -a most interest- 
 ing conversation." 
 
 " Has he spoken to you about me.'* " 
 
 " Your name has not yet been mentioned." 
 
 She made a little grimace. In her wonderful furs 
 and Russian turban hat she made rather a striking 
 picture against the background of snow. 
 
 " An interesting conversation in which my name 
 has not been mentioned ! " she repeated satirically. 
 
 " I think you were coming into it before very 
 long," Dominey assured her. " His Excellency 
 Avarned me that all he had said so far was merely the 
 prelude to a matter of larger importance." 
 
 Stephanie smiled. 
 
 " Dear Maurice is so diplomatic," she murmured. 
 " I am perfectly certain he is going to begin by 
 remonstrating with you for your shocking treatment 
 of me." 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted for a few min-
 
 220 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 utes by the sport. Dominey called the faithful Mid- 
 dleton to his side for a further supply of cartridges. 
 Stephanie bided her time, which came when the beaters 
 at last emerged from the wood. 
 
 " Shocking," Stephanie repeated, reverting to their 
 conversation, " is the mildest word in my vocabulary 
 which I can apply to your treatment of me. Hon- 
 estly, Leopold, I feel bruised all over inside. INIy 
 pride is humbled." 
 
 " It is because you look at the matter only from 
 a feminine point of view," Dominey persisted. 
 
 " And you," she answered in a low tone, " once the 
 fondest and the most passionate of lovers, only from 
 a political one. You think a great deal of your coun- 
 try, Leopold. Have I no claims upon you.'* " 
 
 " Upon Everard Dominey, none," he insisted. 
 " When the time comes, and Leopold von Ragastein 
 can claim all that is his right, believe me, you will 
 have no cause to complain of coldness or dilatoriness. 
 He will have only one thought, only one hope — to 
 end the torture of these years of separation as speed- 
 ily as may be." 
 
 The strained look passed from her face. Her tone 
 became more natural. 
 
 " But, dear," she pleaded, " there is no need to 
 wait. Your Sovereign gives you permission. Your 
 political chief will more than endorse it." 
 
 " I am on the spot," Dominey replied, " and believe 
 me I know what is safest and best. I cannot live as 
 two men and keep my face steadfast to the world. 
 The Prince, however, has not spoken to me yet. I 
 will hear what he has to say."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 221 
 
 Stephanie turned a little haughtily away. 
 
 " You are putting me in the position of a suppli- 
 ant ! " she exclaimed. " To-night we must have an 
 understanding." 
 
 The little party moved on all together to another 
 cover. Rosamund had joined them and hung on to 
 Dominey's arm with delight. The brisk walk across 
 the park had brought colour to her cheeks. She 
 walked with all the free and vigorous grace of a 
 healthy woman. Dominey fourd himself watching 
 her, as she deserted him a little later on to stand by 
 TernilofF's side, with a little thrill of tangled emo- 
 tions. He felt a touch on his arm. Stephanie, who 
 was passing with another of the guns, paused to whis- 
 per in his ear: 
 
 " There might be a greater danger — one that has 
 evaded even your cautious mind — in overplaying 
 your part ! " 
 
 Dominey was taken possession of by Caroline on 
 their walk to the next stand. She planted herself on 
 a shooting stick by his side and commenced to take 
 him roundly to task. 
 
 " My dear Everard," she said, " you are one of the 
 most wonderful examples of the reformed rake I ever 
 met! You have even acquired respectability. For 
 heaven's sake, don't disappoint us all ! " 
 
 " I seem to be rather good at that," Dominey ob- 
 served a little drearily. 
 
 " Well, you are the master of your own actions, 
 are you not.'' " she asked. " What I want to say in 
 plain words is, don't go and make a fool of 3'ourseif 
 with Stephanie."
 
 222 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I have not the least intention of doing anything 
 of the sort." 
 
 " Well, she has ! Mark ni}' words, Evcrard, I know 
 that woman. She is clever and brilliant and any- 
 thing else you like, but for some reason or other she 
 has set her mind upon you. She looks at dear little 
 Rosamund as though she hadn't a right to exist. 
 Don't look so sorry for yourself. You must have 
 encouraged her." 
 
 Dominey was sik t. Fortunately, the exigencies 
 of the next few minutes demanded it. His cousin 
 waited patiently until there came a pause in the shoot- 
 ing. 
 
 " Now let me hear what you have to say for your- 
 self, sir.^* So far as I can see, you've been quite sweet 
 to your wife, and she adores you. If you want to 
 have an affair with the Princess, don't begin it here. 
 Yoj'll have your wife ill again if you make her jeal- 
 ous." 
 
 " My dear Caroline, there will be no affair between 
 Stephanie and me. Of that you may rest assured." 
 
 " You mean to say that this is altogether on her 
 side, then.^ " Caroline persisted. 
 
 " You exaggerate her demeanour," he replied, 
 " but even if what you suggest were true — " 
 
 " Oh, I don't want a lot of protestations ! " she 
 interrupted. " I am not saying that you encourage 
 her much, because I don't believe you do. All I want 
 to point out is that, having really brought 3^our wife 
 back almost to health, you must be extraordinarily 
 and wonderfully careful. If you want to talk non- 
 sense with Stephanie, do it in Belgrave Square."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 223 
 
 Dominey was watching the gyrations of a falling 
 pheasant. Plis left hand was stretched out towards 
 the cartridge bag wliich Caroline was holding. He 
 clasped her fingers for a moment before he helped 
 himself. 
 
 " You are rather a dear," he said. " I would not 
 do anything to hurt Rosamund for the world." 
 
 " If you can't get rid of your old tricks altogether 
 and must flirt," she remarked, " well, I'm always 
 somewhere about. Rosamund wouldn't mind me, be- 
 cause there are a few grey hairs in my sandy ones. — 
 And here comes your man across the park — looks 
 as though he had a message for you. So long as 
 nothing hns happened to your cook, I feel that I 
 could face ill tidings with composure." 
 
 Dominey found himself watching with fixed eyes 
 the approach of his rather sad-faced manservant 
 through the snow. Parkins was not dressed for such 
 an enterprise, nor did he seem in any way to relisli it. 
 His was the stern marcli of duty, and, curiously 
 enough, Dominey felt from the moment he caught 
 sight of him that he was in some respects a messenger 
 of Fate. Yet the message which he delivered, when 
 at last he reached his master's side, was in no wa}^ 
 alarming. 
 
 " A person of the name of Miller has arrived here, 
 sir," he announced, " from Norwich. He is, I under- 
 stand, a foreigner of some sort, who has recently 
 landed in this country. I found it a little difficult 
 to understand him, but her Highness's maid conversed 
 with him in German, and I understand that he either 
 is or brings you a message from a certain Doctor
 
 224 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Schmidt, with whom j^ou were acquainted in 
 Africa." 
 
 The warning whistle blew at that moment, and 
 Dominey swung round and stood at attention. His 
 behaviour was perfectly normal. He let a hen pheas- 
 ant pass over his head, and brought down a cock 
 from very nearly the limit distance. He reloaded 
 before he turned to Parkins. 
 
 " Is this person in a hurry .? " he said. 
 
 " By no means, sir," the man replied. " I told him 
 that you would not be back until three or four o'clock, 
 and he is quite content to wait." 
 
 Dominey nodded. 
 
 " Look after him yourself then, Parkins," he di- 
 rected. " We shall not be shooting late to-day. 
 Very likely I will send Mr. Seaman back to talk to 
 him." 
 
 The man raised his hat respectfully and turned 
 back towards the house. Caroline was watching her 
 companion curiously. 
 
 " Do you find many of your acquaintances in Af- 
 rica look you up, Everard.'* " she asked. 
 
 " Except for Seaman," Dominey replied, looking 
 through the barrels of his gun, " who reall3'^ does not 
 count because we crossed together, this is my first 
 visitor from the land of fortune. I expect there will 
 be plenty of them by and by, though. Colonials have 
 a wonderful habit of sticking to one another."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 There was nothing in the least alarming about the 
 appearance of Mr. Ludwig Miller. He had been ex- 
 ceedingly well entertained in the butler's private sit- 
 ting-room and had the air of having done full justice 
 to the hospitality which had been offered him. He 
 rose to his feet at Dominey's entrance and stood at 
 attention. But for some slight indications of mili- 
 tary training, he would have passed anywhere as a 
 highly respectable retired tradesman. 
 
 " Sir Everard Dominey? " he enquired. 
 
 Dominey nodded assent. " That is my name. 
 Have I seen you before.'' " 
 
 Tlic man shook his head. *' I am a cousin of Doc- 
 tor Schmidt. I arrived in the Colony from Rhodesia, 
 after your Excellency had left," 
 
 " And how is the doctor.'' " 
 
 " My cousin is, as always, busy but in excellent 
 health," was the reply. " He sends his respectful 
 compliments and his good wishes. Also this letter." 
 
 With a little flourish the man produced an envelope 
 inscribed 
 
 To Sir Everard Dominey, Baronet, 
 Dominey Hall, 
 
 In the County of Norfolk, 
 England.
 
 226 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Dominey broke the seal just as Seaman entered. 
 
 " A messenger here from Doctor Schmidt, an ac- 
 quaintance of mine in East Africa," he announced. 
 " Mr. Seaman came home from South Africa with 
 me," he explained to his visitor. 
 
 The two men looked steadily into each other's eyes. 
 Dominey watched them, fascinated. Neither be- 
 trayed himself by even the fall of an eyelid. Yet 
 Dominey, his perceptive powers at their very keenest 
 in this moment which instinct told him was one of 
 crisis, felt the unspoken, unbetokened recognition 
 which passed between them. Some commonplace re- 
 mark was uttered and responded to. Dominey read 
 the few lines which seemed to take him back for a 
 moment to another world: 
 
 " Honoured and Honourable Sir, 
 
 " I send you my heartiest and most respectful greet- 
 ing. Of the progress of all matters here you will learn 
 from another source. 
 
 " I recommend to your notice and kindness my cousin, 
 the bearer of this letter — Mr. Ludwig Miller. He will 
 lay before you certain circumstances of which it is ad- 
 visable for you to have knowledge. You may speak 
 freely with him. He is in all respects to be trusted. 
 (Signed) " Karl Schmidt." 
 
 " Your cousin is a little mysterious," Dominey re- 
 marked, as he passed the letter to Seaman. "" Come, 
 what about these circumstances.'' " 
 
 Ludwig Miller looked around the little room and 
 then at Seaman. Dominey' affected to misunderstand 
 his hesitation.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 227 
 
 " Our friend here knows everything," he declared. 
 " You can speak to him as to m3'self." 
 
 The man began as one who has a stor}- to tell. 
 
 " My errand here is to warn j'ou," he said, " that 
 the Englishman whom you left for dead at Big Bend, 
 on the banks of the Blue River, has been heard. of in 
 another part of Africa." 
 
 Dominey shook his head incredulously. " I hope 
 you have not come all this way to tell me that ! The 
 man was dead." 
 
 " My cousin himself," Miller continued, " was hard 
 to convince. The man left his encampment with 
 whisky enough to kill him, thirst enough to drink it 
 all, and no food." 
 
 " So I found him," Dominey assented, " deserted 
 by his boys and raving. To silence liim forever was a 
 child's task." 
 
 " The task, however, was unperformed," the other 
 persisted. " From three places in the Colony he has 
 been heard of, struggling to make his way to the 
 coast." 
 
 " Does he call himself by his own name? " Dominey 
 asked. 
 
 " He does not," Miller admitted. " My cousin, 
 however, desired me to point out to j'ou the fact that 
 in any case he would probably be shy of doing so. 
 He is behaving in an absurd manner ; he is in a very 
 weakly state ; and without a doubt he is to some de- 
 gree insane. Nevertheless, the fact remains that he 
 is in the Colony, or was three months ago, and that if 
 he succeeds in reaching the coast you ma^' at any time 
 be surprised by a visit from him here. I am sent to
 
 228 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 warn you in order that you may take what steps may 
 be necessary and not be placed at a disadvantage if 
 he should appear." 
 
 " This is queer news you have brought us, Miller," 
 Seaman said thoughtfully. 
 
 " It is news which greatly disturbed Doctor 
 Schmidt," the man replied. " He has had the na- 
 tives up one after the other for cross-examination. 
 Nothing can shake their story." 
 
 " If we believed it," Seaman continued, " this other 
 European, if he had business in this direction, might 
 walk in here at any moment." 
 
 " It was to warn you of that possibility that I am 
 here." 
 
 " How much do you know personally," Seaman 
 asked, " of the existent circumstances.'^ " 
 
 The man shook his head vaguely. 
 
 " I know nothing," he admitted. " I went out to 
 East Africa some years ago, and I have been a trader 
 in Mozambique in a small way. I supplied outfits 
 for officers and hospitals and sportsmen. Now and 
 then I have to return to Europe to buy fresh stock. 
 Doctor Schmidt knew that, and he came to see me just 
 before I sailed. He first thought of writing a very 
 long letter. Afterwards he changed his mind. He 
 wrote only those few lines I brought, but he told me 
 those other things." 
 
 "You have remembered all that he told you.''" 
 Dominey asked. 
 
 " I can think of nothing else," was the reply, after 
 a moment's pause. " The whole affair has been a 
 great worry to Doctor Schmidt. There are things
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 229 
 
 connected with it which he has never understood, 
 things connected with it which he has always found 
 m3^sterious." 
 
 " Hence ^^our presence here, Johann Wolff, eh ? " 
 Seaman asked, in an altered tone. 
 
 The visitor's expression remained unchanged ex- 
 cept for the faint surprise which shone out of his 
 blue eyes. 
 
 " Johann Wolff," he repeated. " That is not my 
 name. I am Ludwig Miller, and I know nothing of 
 this matter beyond what I have told you. I am just 
 a messenger." 
 
 " Once in Vienna and twice in Cracow, my friend, 
 we have met," Seaman reminded him softly but very 
 insistently. 
 
 The other shook his head gentlv. " A mistake. I 
 have been in Vienna once, many years ago, but Cra- 
 cow never." 
 
 "You have no idea with whom you are talking?" 
 
 " Herr Seaman was the name, I understood." 
 
 " It is a very good name," Seaman scoffed. 
 " Look here and think." 
 
 He undid his coat and waistcoat and displayed a 
 plain vest of chamois leather. Attached to the left- 
 hand side of it was a bronze decoration, with lettering 
 and a number. Miller stared at it blankly and shook 
 his head. 
 
 " Information Department, Bureau Twelve, pass- 
 word — ' The Day is coming,' " Seaman continued, 
 dropping his voice. 
 
 His listener shook his head and smiled with the 
 puzzled ignorance of a child.
 
 230 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " The gentleman mistakes me for some one else," 
 he replied. " I know nothing of these things." 
 
 Seaman sat and studied this obstinate visitor for 
 several minutes without speaking, his finger tips 
 pressed together, his eyebrows gently contracted. 
 His vis-a-vis endured this scrutiny without flinching, 
 calm, phlegmatic, the very prototype of the bour- 
 geois German of the tradesman class. 
 
 " Do you propose," Dominey enquired, " to stay 
 in these parts long.'' " 
 
 " One or two days — a week, perhaps," was the in- 
 different answer. " I have a cousin in Norwich who 
 makes toys. I love the English country. I spend 
 my holiday here, perhaps." 
 
 " Just so," Seaman muttered grimly. " The Eng- 
 lish country under a foot of snow! So you have 
 nothing more to say to me, Johann Wolff .^ " 
 
 " I have executed my mission to his Excellency," 
 was the apologetic reply. " I am sorry to have 
 caused displeasure to you, Herr Seaman." 
 
 The latter rose to his feet. Dominey had already 
 turned towards the door. 
 
 " You will spend the night here, of course, Mr. 
 Miller.'' " he invited. " I dare say Mr. Seaman would 
 like to have another talk with you in the morning." 
 
 " I shall gladly spend the night here, your Excel- 
 lency," was the polite reply. " I do not think that I 
 have anything to say, however, which would interest 
 your friend." 
 
 " You are making a great mistake, Wolff," Seaman 
 declared angrily. " I am your superior in the Serv- 
 ice, and your attitude towards me is indefensible."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 231 
 
 " If the gentleman would only believe," the culprit 
 begged, " that he is mistaking me for some one else ! " 
 
 There was trouble in Seaman's face as the two men 
 made their way to the front of the house and trouble 
 in his tone as he answered his companion's query. 
 
 " What do you think of that fellow and his visit ? " 
 
 " I do not know yet what to think, but there is a 
 great deal that I know," Seaman replied gravely. 
 " The man is a spy, a favourite in the Wilhelm- 
 strasse and only made use of on important occasions. 
 His name is Wolff — Johann Wolff." 
 
 " And this story of his? " 
 
 " You ought to be the best judge of that." 
 
 " I am," Dominey assented confidently. " With- 
 out the shadow of a doubt I threw the body of the 
 man I killed into the Blue River and watched it sink." 
 
 " Then the story is a fake," Seaman decided. 
 " For some reason or other we have come under the 
 suspicion of our own secret service." 
 
 Seaman, as they emerged into the hall, was sum- 
 moned imperiously to her side by the Princess Eider- 
 strom. Dominey disappeared for a moment and re- 
 turned presently, having discarded some of his soaked 
 shooting garments. He was followed by his valet, 
 bearing a note upon a silver tray. 
 
 " From the person in Mr. Parkins' room — to Mr. 
 Seaman, sir," the man announced, in a low tone. 
 
 Dominey took it from the salver with a little nod. 
 Then he turned to where the youngest and most frivo- 
 lous of his guests was in the act of rising from the 
 tea table. 
 
 " A game of pills, Eddy," he proposed. " They
 
 232 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 tell me that pool is one of your great accomplish- 
 ments." 
 
 " I'm pretty useful," the young man confessed, 
 with a satisfied chuckle. " Give you a black at 
 snooker, what .'' " 
 
 Domine}^ took his arm and led him into the billiard- 
 room. 
 
 " You will give me nothing, young fellow," he re- 
 plied. " Set them up, and I will show you how I 
 made a living for two months at Johannesberg ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 The evening at Dominey Hall was practically a 
 repetition of the previous one, with a different set of 
 guests from the outer world. After dinner, Dominey 
 was absent for a few minutes and returned with Rosa- 
 mund upon his arm. She received the congratula- 
 tions of her neighbours charmingly, and a little court 
 soon gathered around her. Doctor Harrison, who 
 had been dining, remained upon its outskirts, listen- 
 ing to her light-hearted and at times almost brilliant 
 chatter with grave and watchful interest. Dominey, 
 satisfied that she was being entertained, obeyed Ter- 
 nilofF's gestured behest and strolled with him to a 
 distant corner of the hall. 
 
 " Let me now, my dear host," the Prince began, 
 with some eagerness in his tone, " continue and, I 
 trust, conclude the conversation to which all that I 
 said this morning was merelj' the prelude." 
 
 " I am entirely at your service," murmured his 
 host. 
 
 " I have tried to make you understand that from 
 my own point of view — and I am in a position to 
 know something — the fear of war between this coun- 
 try and our own has passed. England is willing to 
 make all reasonable sacrifices to ensure peace. She 
 wants peace, she intends peace, therefore there will 
 be peace. Therefore, I maintain, mj^ young friend,
 
 234 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 it is better for you to disappear at once from this 
 false position." 
 
 " I am scarcely my own master," Dominey replied. 
 * You yourself must know that. I am here as a serv- 
 ant under orders." 
 
 " Join your protest with mine," the Prince sug- 
 gested. " I will make a report directl}^ I get back 
 to London. To my mind, the matter is urgent. If 
 an^^thing should lead to the discover}' of your false 
 position in this country, the friendship between us 
 which has become a real pleasure to me must seriously 
 undermine my own position." 
 
 Dominey had risen to his feet and was standing on 
 the hearthrug, in front of a fire of blazing logs. The 
 Ambassador was sitting with crossed legs in a com- 
 fortable easy-chair, smoking one of the long, thin 
 cigars which were his particular fanc}'. 
 
 " Your Excellency," Dominey said, " there is just 
 one fallacy in all that you have said." 
 
 "A fallacy.?" 
 
 " You have come to the absolute conclusion," Dom- 
 iney continued, " that because England wants peace 
 there will be peace. I am of Seaman's mind. I be- 
 lieve in the ultimate power of the militarj' party of 
 Germany. I believe that in time they will thrust 
 their will upon the Kaiser, if he is not at the present 
 moment secretly in league with them. Therefore, I 
 believe that there will be war." 
 
 " If I shared that belief -with you, my friend," the 
 Ambassador said quietly, " I should consider my posi- 
 tion here one of dishonour. ^M}' mandate is for 
 peace, and my charge is from the Kaiser's lips."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 235 
 
 Stephanie, with the air of one a little weary of the 
 conversation, broke away from a distant group and 
 came towards them. Her beautiful eyes seemed tired, 
 she moved listlessly, and she even spoke with less than 
 her usual assurance, 
 
 "Am I disturbing a serious conversation?" she 
 asked. " Send me away if I am." 
 
 " His Excellency and I," Dominey observed, " have 
 reached a cul-de-sac in our argument, — the blank 
 wall of good-natured but fundamental disagree- 
 ment." 
 
 " Then I shall claim you for a while," Stephanie 
 declared, taking Dominey's arm. " Lady Dominey 
 has attracted all the men to her circle, and I am 
 lonely." 
 
 The Prince bowed. 
 
 " I deny the cul-de-sac," he said, " but I yield our 
 host ! I shall seek my opponent at billiards." 
 
 He turned away and Stephanie sank into his vacant 
 place. 
 
 " So you and my cousin," she remarked, as she 
 made room for Dominey to sit by her side, " have 
 come to a disagreement." 
 
 " Not an unfriendly one," her host assured her. 
 
 " That I am sure of. Maurice seems, indeed, to 
 have taken a wonderful liking to you. I cannot re- 
 member that you ever met before, except for that day 
 or two in Saxony? " 
 
 " That is so. The first time I exchanged any inti- 
 mate conversation with the Prince was in London. I 
 have the utmost respect and regard for him, but I 
 cannot help feeling that the pleasant intimacy to
 
 236 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 which he has admitted me is to a large extent owing 
 to the desire of our friends in BerHn. So far as I 
 am concerned, I have never met any one, of any na- 
 tion, whose character I admire more." 
 
 " Maurice lives his life loftily. He is one of the 
 few great aristocrats I have met who carries his no- 
 bility of birth into his simplest thought and action. 
 There is just one thing," she added, "which would 
 break his heart." 
 
 "And that.?" 
 
 "The subject upon which you two disagree — a 
 war between Germany and this country." 
 
 " The Prince is an idealist," Dominey said. 
 " Sometimes I wonder why he was sent here, why 
 they did not send some one of a more intriguing 
 character." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " You agree with that great Frenchman," she ob- 
 served, " that no ambassador can remain a gentle- 
 man — politically." 
 
 " Well, I have never been a diplomat, so I cannot 
 say," Dominey replied. 
 
 " You have many qualifications, I should think," 
 she observed cuttingly. 
 
 "Such as.?" 
 
 " You are absolutely callous, absolutely without 
 heart or sympathy where your work is concerned." 
 
 " I do not admit it," he protested. 
 
 " I go back to London to-morrow," she continued, 
 " a very miserable and unhappy woman. I take with 
 me the letter which should have brought me happi- 
 ness. The love for which I have sacrificed my life has
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 237 
 
 failed me. Not even the whip of a royal command, 
 not even all that I have to offer, can give me even five 
 seconds of happiness." 
 
 " All that I have pleaded for," Dominey reminded 
 her earnestly, " is delay," 
 
 " And what delay do you think," she asked, with a 
 sudden note of passion in her tone, " would the Leo- 
 pold von Ragastein of six years ago have pleaded 
 for.'' Dela}^ ! He found words then which would 
 have melted an iceberg. He found words the memory 
 of which comes to me sometimes in the night and which 
 mock me. He had no country then save the paradise 
 where lovers walk, no ruler but a queen, and I was 
 she. And now — " 
 
 Dominey felt a strange pang of distress. She saw 
 the unusual softening in his face, and here eyes lit. 
 up. 
 
 " Just for a moment," she broke off, " you were like 
 Leopold. As a rule, you know, you are not like him. 
 I think that you left him somewhere in Africa and 
 came home in his likeness." 
 
 " Believe that for a little time," Dominey begged 
 earnestly. 
 
 "What if it were true.?" she asked abruptly. 
 " There are times when I do not recognise you. 
 There are words Leopold used to use which I have 
 never heard from your lips. Is not West Africa 
 the sorcerer's paradise? Perhaps you are an im- 
 postor, and the man I love is there still, in trouble — 
 perhaps ill. You play the part of Everard Dominey 
 like a very king of actors. Perhaps before you came 
 here you played the part of Leopold. You are not
 
 238 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 my Leopold. Love cannot die as you would have me 
 believe." 
 
 " Now," he said coolly, " you are coming round to 
 my way of thinking. I have been assuring you, from 
 the very first moment we met at the Carlton, that I 
 was not your Leopold — that I was Everard Domi- 
 ney." 
 
 " I shall put you to the test," she exclaimed sud- 
 denly, rising to her feet. " Your arm, if you 
 please." 
 
 She led him across the hall to where little groups of 
 people were gossiping, playing bridge, and Seaman, 
 the centre of a little group of gullible amateur specu- 
 lators, was lecturing on mines. They stopped to say 
 a word or two here and there, but Stephanie's fingers 
 never left her companion's arm. They passed down 
 a corridor hung with a collection of wonderful sport- 
 ing prints in which she aflfected some interest, into a 
 small gallery which led into the ballroom. Here they 
 were alone. She laid her hands upon his shoulders 
 and looked up into his eyes. Her lips drew nearer to 
 his. 
 
 " Kiss me — upon the lips, Leopold," she ordered. 
 
 " There is no Leopold here," he replied ; " you 
 yourself have said it." 
 
 She came a little nearer. " Upon the lips," she 
 whispered. 
 
 He held her, stooped down, and their lips met. 
 Then she stood apart from him. Her eyes were for 
 a moment closed, her hands were extended as though 
 to prevent any chance of his approaching her again. 
 
 " Now I know the truth," she muttered.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 239 
 
 Dominey found an opportunity to draw Seaman 
 away from his little group of investment-seeking 
 friends. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " trouble grows." 
 
 " Anj'thing more from Schmidt's supposed emis- 
 sary? " Seaman asked quickly. 
 
 " No. I am going to keep away from him this 
 evening, and I advise you to do the same. The 
 trouble is with the Princess." 
 
 " With the Princess," declared Seaman. " I think 
 you have blundered. I quite appreciate your general 
 principles of behaving internal!}' and externally as 
 though you were the person whom 3'ou pretend to 
 be. It is the very essence of all successful espionage. 
 But you should know when to make exceptions. I see 
 grave objections m^'self to your obej'ing the Kaiser's 
 behest. On the other hand, I see no objection what- 
 ever to 3'our treating the Princess in a more human 
 manner, to your visiting her in London, and 
 giving her more ardent proofs of your continued 
 affection." 
 
 " If I once begin — " 
 
 " Look here," Seaman interrupted, " the Princess 
 is a woman of the world. She knows what she is 
 doing, and there is a definite tie between you. I tell 
 you frankly that I could not bear to see you playing 
 the idiot for a moment with Lady Dominey, but with 
 the Princess, scruples don't enter into the question 
 at all. You should by no means make an enemy of 
 her." 
 
 " Well, I have done it," Dominey acknowledged. 
 " She has gone off to bed now, and she is leaving early
 
 240 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 to-morrow morning. She thinks I have borrowed 
 some West African magic, that I have left her lover's 
 soul out there and come home in his body." 
 
 " Well, if she does," Seaman declared, " you are 
 out of your troubles." 
 
 " Am I ! " Dominey replied gloomily. " First of 
 all, she may do a lot of mischief before she goes. And 
 then, supposing by any thousand to one chance the 
 story of this cousin of Schmidt's should be true, and 
 she should find Dominey out there, still alive.'' The 
 Princess is not of German birth, you know. She 
 cares nothing for Germany's future. As a matter of 
 fact, I think, like a great many Hungarians, she pre- 
 fers England. They say that an Englishman has as 
 many lives as a cat. Supposing that chap Dominey 
 did come to life again and she brings him home? You 
 say yourself that you do not mean to make much use 
 of me until after the war has started. In the par- 
 lance of this country of idioms, that will rather upset 
 the apple cart, will it not? " 
 
 " Has the Princess a suite of rooms here? " Seaman 
 enquired. 
 
 " Over in the west wing. Good idea ! You go and 
 see what you can do with her. She will not think of 
 going to bed at this time of night." 
 
 Seaman nodded. 
 
 " Leave it to me," he directed. " You go out and 
 play the host." 
 
 Dominey played the host first and then the hus- 
 band. Rosamund welcomed him with a little cry of 
 pleasure. 
 
 " I have been enjoying myself so much, Everard! "
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 241 
 
 she exclaimed. " Everybody has been so kind, and 
 Mr. Mangan has taught me a new Patience." 
 
 " And now, I think," Doctor Harrison intervened 
 a little gruffly, " it's time to knock off for the eve- 
 ning." 
 
 She turned very sweetly to Everard. 
 
 " Will you take me upstairs .'* " she begged. " I 
 have been hoping so much that you would come before 
 Doctor Harrison sent me off." 
 
 " I should have been very disappointed if I had been 
 too late," Dominey assured her. " Now say good 
 night to ever^'bod}'." 
 
 " Why, you talk to me as though I were a child," 
 she laughed. " Well, good-b^'e, everybody, then. 
 You see, my stern husband is taking me off. When 
 are 3'ou coming to -see me, Doctor Harrison.'' " 
 
 " Nothing to see you for," was the gruflP reply. 
 " You are as well as any woman here," 
 
 " Just a little unsympathetic, isn't he.'' " she com- 
 plained to Dominey. " Please take me through the 
 hall, so that I can say good-bye to every one else. Is 
 the Princess Eiderstrom there? " 
 
 " I am afraid that she has gone to bed," Dominey 
 answered, as they passed out of the room. " She said 
 something about a headache." 
 
 " She is very beautiful," Rosamund said wistfully. 
 " I wish she looked as though she liked me a little 
 more. Is she very fond of you, Everard.'' " 
 
 " I think that I am rather in her bad books just at 
 present," Dominey confessed. 
 
 " I wonder ! I am very observant, and I have seen 
 her looking at you sometimes — Of course," Rosa-
 
 242 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 mund went on, " as I am not really your wife and you 
 are not really my husband, it is very stupid of me to 
 feel jealous, isn't it, Everard? " 
 
 " Not a bit," he answered. " If I am not your 
 husband, I will not be anybody else's." 
 
 " I love you to say that," she admitted, with a little 
 sigh, " but it seems wrong somewhere. Look how 
 cross the Duchess looks ! Some one must have played 
 the wrong card." 
 
 Rosamund's farewells were not easily made ; Ter- 
 niloff especially seemed reluctant to let her go. She 
 excused herself gracefully, however, promising to sit 
 up a little later the next evening. Dominey led the 
 way upstairs, curiously gratified at her lingering 
 progress. He took her to the door of her room and 
 looked in. The nurse was sitting in an easy-chair, 
 reading, and the maid was sewing in the background. 
 
 " Well, you look very comfortable here," he de- 
 clared cheerfully. " Pray do not move, nurse." 
 
 Rosamund held his hands, as though reluctant to 
 let him go. Then she drew his face down and kissed 
 him. 
 
 " Yes," she said a little plaintively, " it's very com- 
 fortable. — Everard? " 
 
 "Yes, dear.?" 
 
 She drew his head down and whispered in his ear. 
 
 " May I come in and say good night for two min- 
 utes.?" 
 
 He smiled — a wonderfully kind smile — but shook 
 his head. 
 
 " Not to-night, dear," he replied. " The Prince 
 loves to sit up late, and I shall be downstairs with
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 243 
 
 him. Besides, that bully of a doctor of yours insists 
 upon ten hours' sleep." 
 
 She sighed like a disappointed child. 
 
 " Very well." She paused for a moment to listen. 
 " Wasn't that a car? " she asked. 
 
 " Some of our guests going early, I dare say," he 
 replied, as he turned away.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 Seaman did not at once start on his mission to the 
 Princess. He made his way instead to the ser\'ants' 
 quarters and knocked at the door of the butler's sit- 
 ting-room. There was no reply. He tried the han- 
 dle in vain. The door was locked. A tall, grave- 
 faced man in sombre black came out from an adjoin- 
 ing apartment. 
 
 " You are looking for the person who arrived this 
 evening from abroad, sir? " he enquired. 
 
 " I am," Seaman replied. " Has he locked him- 
 self in? " 
 
 " He has left the Hall, sir ! " 
 
 " Left ! " Seaman repeated. " Do you mean gone 
 away for good? " 
 
 " Apparently, sir. I do not understand his lan- 
 guage myself, but I believe he considered his reception 
 here, for some reason or other, unfavourable. He 
 took advantage of the car which went down to the 
 station for the evening papers and caught the last 
 train." 
 
 Seaman was silent for a moment. The news was a 
 shock to him. 
 
 "What is your position here?" he asked his in- 
 formant. 
 
 " My name is Reynolds, sir," was the respectful 
 reply. " I am Mr. Pelham's servant."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 245 
 
 " Can you tell me why, if this man has left, the 
 door here is locked? " 
 
 " Mr. Parkins locked it before he went out, sir. 
 He accompanied — Mr. Miller, I think his name 
 was — to the station." 
 
 Seaman had the air of a man not wholly satisfied. 
 
 " Is it usual to lock up a sitting-room in this fash- 
 ion? " he asked. 
 
 " Mr. Parkins always does it, sir. The cabinets 
 of cigars are kept there, also the wine-cellar key and 
 the key of the plate chest. None of the other serv- 
 ants use the room except at Mr. Parkins' invitation." 
 
 " I understand," Seaman said, as he turned away. 
 " Much obliged for your information, Reynolds. I 
 will speak to Mr. Parkins later." 
 
 " I will let him know that you desire to see him, 
 sir." 
 
 " Good night, Reynolds ! " 
 
 " Good night, sir ! " 
 
 Seaman passed back again to the crowded hall and 
 billiard-room, exchanged a few remarks here and 
 there, and made his way up the southern flight of 
 stairs towards the west wing. Stephanie consented 
 without hesitation to receive him. She was seated in 
 front of the fire, reading a novel, in a boudoir open- 
 ing out of her bedroom. 
 
 " Princess," Seaman declared, with a low bow, " we 
 are in despair at your desertion." 
 
 She put down her book. 
 
 " I have been insulted in this house," she said. 
 " To-morrow I leave it." 
 
 Seaman shook his head reproachfully.
 
 246 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Your Highness," he continued, " believe me, I do 
 not wish to presume upon my position. I am only a 
 German tradesman, admitted to circles like these for 
 reasons connected solely with the welfare of my coun- 
 try. Yet I know much, as it happens, of the truth of 
 this matter, the matter which is causing you distress. 
 I beg you to reconsider your decision. Our friend 
 here is, I think, needlessly hard upon himself. So 
 much the greater will be his reward when the end 
 comes. So much the greater will be the rapture with 
 which he will throw himself on his knees before you." 
 
 " Has he sent you to reason with me? " 
 
 " Not directly. I am to a certain extent, however, 
 his major-domo in this enterprise. I brought him 
 from Africa. I have watched over him from the 
 start. Two brains are better than one. I try to 
 show him where to avoid mistakes, I try to point out 
 the paths of danger and of safety." 
 
 " I should imagine Sir Everard finds you useful," 
 she remarked calmly. 
 
 " I hope he does." 
 
 " It has doubtless occurred to you," she continued, 
 " that oiir friend has accommodated himself wonder- 
 fully to English life and customs? " 
 
 " You must remember that he was educated here. 
 Nevertheless, his aptitude has been marvellous." 
 
 " One might almost call it supernatural," she 
 agreed. " Tell me, Mr. Seaman, you seem to have 
 been completely successful in the installation of our 
 friend here as Sir Everard. What is going to be his 
 real value to you ? What work will he do ? " 
 
 " We are keeping him for the big things. You
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 247 
 
 have seen our gracious master lately? " he added 
 hesitatinglj'. 
 
 " I know what is at the back of your mind," she 
 replied. " Yes ! Before the summer is over I am to 
 pack up my trunks and fly. I understand." 
 
 " It is when that time comes," Seaman said impres- 
 sively, " that we expect Sir Everard Dominey, the 
 typical English country gentleman, of whose loyalty 
 there has never been a word of doubt, to be of use to 
 us. Most of our present helpers will be under sus- 
 picion. The authorised staff of our secret service 
 can only work underneath. You can see for yourself 
 the advantage we gain in having a confidential corre- 
 spondent who can day by day reflect the changing 
 psychology of the British mind in all its phases. We 
 have quite enough of the other sort of help arranged 
 for. Plans of ships, aerodromes and harbours, sail- 
 ings of convoys, calling up of soldiers — all these are 
 the A. B. C. of the secret service profession. We 
 shall never ask our friend here for a single fact, but, 
 from his town house in Berkeley Square, the host of 
 Cabinet Ministers, of soldiers, of the best brains of 
 the countr}^, our fingers will never leave the pulse of 
 Britain's day by day life." 
 
 Stephanie threw herself back in her easy-chair and 
 clasped her hands behind her head. 
 
 " These things you are expecting from our present 
 host?" 
 
 " We are, and we expect to get them. I have 
 watched him day by day. My confidence in him has 
 grown." 
 
 Stephanie was silent. She sat looking into the fire.
 
 248 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Seaman, keenly observant as always, realised the 
 change in her, yet found something of mj'ster^' in her 
 new detachment of manner. 
 
 " Your Higlmess," he urged, " I am not here to 
 speak on behalf of the man who at heart is, I know, 
 your lover. He will plead his own cause when the 
 time comes. But I am here to plead for patience, I 
 am here to implore you to take no rash step, to do 
 nothing which might imperil in any way his position 
 here. I stand outside the gates of the world which 
 your sex can make a paradise. I am no judge of the 
 things that happen there. But in 3'our heart I feel 
 there is bitterness, because the man for whom you 
 care has chosen to place his country first. I implore 
 your patience. Princess. I implore you to believe 
 what I know so well, — that it is the sternest sense of 
 duty only which is the foundation of Leopold von 
 Ragastein's obdurate attitude." 
 
 " What are you afraid that I shall do.'' " she asked 
 curiously. 
 
 " I am afraid of nothing — directly." 
 " Indirectly, then ? Answer me, please." 
 " I am afraid," he admitted frankly, " that in 
 some corner of the world, if not in this country, you 
 might whisper a word, a scoffing or an angry sentence, 
 which would make people wonder what grudge you 
 had against a simple Norfolk baronet. I would not 
 like that word spoken in the presence of any one who 
 knew your history and realised the rather amazing 
 likeness between Sir Everard Dominey and Baron 
 Leopold von Ragastein." 
 
 " I see," Stephanie murmured, a faint smile part-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 249 
 
 ing her lips. " Well, Mr. Seaman, I do not think 
 that you need have many fears. What I shall carry 
 away with me in my heart is not for you or any 
 man to know. In a few days I shall leave this 
 country." 
 
 " You are going back to Berlin — to Hungar}^? " 
 She shook her head, beckoned her maid to open the 
 door, and held out her hand in token of dismissal. 
 
 " I am going to take a sea voyage," she announced. 
 " I shall go to Africa." 
 
 The morrow was a day of mild surprises. Eddy 
 Pelham's empty place was the first to attract notice, 
 towards the end of breakfast time. 
 
 " Where's the pink and white immaculate.'' " the 
 Right Honourable gentleman asked. " I miss my 
 morning wonder as to how he tied his tie." 
 
 " Gone," Dominey replied, looking round from the 
 sideboard. 
 
 " Gone.'' " every one repeated. 
 
 " I should think such a thing has never happened 
 to him before," Dominey observed. " He was wanted 
 in town." 
 
 " Fancy any one wanting Eddy for any serious 
 purpose ! " Caroline murmured. 
 
 " P^ancy any one wanting him badly enough to 
 drag him out of bed in the middle of the night with 
 a telephone call and send him up to town by the 
 breakfast train from Norwich ! " their host continued. 
 " I thought we had started a new ghost when he came 
 into my room in a purple dressing-gown and broke 
 the news."
 
 250 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Who wanted him ? " the Duke enquired. " His 
 tailor? " 
 
 " Business of importance was his pretext," Domi- 
 nej replied. 
 
 There was a little ripple of good-humoured laugh- 
 ter. 
 
 "Does Eddy do anything for a living? " Caroline 
 asked, yawning. 
 
 " Mr. Pelham is a director of the Chelsea Motor 
 Works," Mangan told them. " He received a small 
 legacy last year, and his favourite taxicab man was 
 the first to know about it." 
 
 " You're not suggesting," she exclaimed, " that it 
 is business of that sort which has taken Eddy away ! " 
 
 " I should think it most improbable," Mangan con- 
 fessed. " As a matter of fact, he asked me the other 
 day if I knew where their premises were." 
 
 " We shall miss him," she acknowledged. " It was 
 quite one of the events of the day to see his costume 
 after shooting." 
 
 " His bridge was reasonably good," the Duke com- 
 mented. 
 
 " He shot rather well the last two days," Mangan 
 remarked. 
 
 " And he had told me confidentially," Caroline con- 
 cluded, " that he was going to wear brown to-day. 
 Now I think Eddy would have looked nice in brown." 
 
 The missing young man's requiem was finished by 
 the arrival of the local morning papers. A few mo- 
 ments later Dominey rose and left the room. Sea- 
 man, who had been unusually silent, followed him. 
 
 " My friend," he confided, " I do not know whether
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 251 
 
 you have heard, but there was another curious dis- 
 appearance from the Hall last night." 
 
 "Whose? " Domincy asked, pausing in the act of 
 selecting a cigarette. 
 
 " Our friend Miller, or Wolff — Doctor Schmidt's 
 emissary," Seaman announced, " has disappeared." 
 
 " Disappeared.'' " Dominey repeated. " I suppose 
 he is having a prowl round somewhere." 
 
 " I have left it to you to make more careful en- 
 quiries," Seaman replied. " All I can tell you is that 
 I made up my mind last night to interview him once 
 more and try to fathom his very m3'sterious behav- 
 iour. I found the door of your butler's sitting-room 
 locked, and a very civil fellow — Mr. Pelham's valet 
 he turned out to be — told me that he had left in the 
 car which went for the evening papers." 
 
 " I will go and make some enquiries," Dominey de- 
 cided, after a moment's puzzled consideration. 
 
 " If 3'ou please," Seaman acquiesced. " The affair 
 disconcerts me because I do not understand it. When 
 there is a thing which I do not understand, I am un- 
 comfortable." 
 
 Dominey vanished into the nether regions, spent 
 half an hour with Rosamund, and saw nothing of his 
 disturbed guest again until they were walking to the 
 first wood. They had a moment together after Dom- 
 iney had pointed out the stands. 
 
 " Well .'' " Seaman enquired. 
 
 " Our friend," Dominey announced, " apparently 
 made up his mind to go quite suddenly. A bed was 
 arranged for him — or rather it is always there — in 
 a small apartment opening out of the butler's room,
 
 252 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 on the ground floor. He said nothing about leaving 
 until he saw Parkins preparing to go down to the 
 station with the chauffeur. Then he insisted upon 
 accompanying him, and when he found there was a 
 train to Norwich he simply bade them both good 
 night. He left no message whatever for either you 
 or me." 
 
 Seaman was thoughtful. 
 
 " There is no doubt," he said, " that his departure 
 was indicative of a certain distrust in us. He came 
 to find out something, and I suppose he found it out. 
 I envy you your composure, my friend. We live on 
 the brink of a volcano, and you shoot pheasants." 
 
 " We will try a partridge for a change," Dominey 
 observed, swinging round as a single Frenchman with 
 a dull whiz crossed the hedge behind them and fell a 
 little distance away, a crumpled heap of feathers. 
 " Neat, I think? " he added, turning to his companion. 
 
 " Marvellous ! " Seaman replied, with faint sar- 
 casm. " I envy your nerve." 
 
 " I cannot take this matter very seriously," Domi- 
 ney acknowledged. " The fellow seemed to me quite 
 harmless." 
 
 " My anxieties have also been aroused in another 
 direction," Seaman confided. 
 
 "Any other trouble looming? " Dominey asked. 
 
 " You will find yourself minus another guest when 
 you return this afternoon." 
 
 "The Princess?" 
 
 " The Princess," Seaman assented. " I did my 
 best with her last night, but I found her in a most 
 peculiar frame of mind. We are to be relieved of any
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 253 
 
 anxiety concerning her for some time, however. She 
 has decided to take a sea voyage." 
 
 "Whereto.?" 
 
 " Africa ! " 
 
 Dominey paused in the act of inserting a cartridge 
 into his gun. He turned slowly around and looked 
 into his companion's expressionless face. 
 
 "Why the mischief is she going out there.'*" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I can no more tell you that," Seaman replied, 
 " than why Johann Wolff was sent over here to spy 
 upon our perfect work. I am most unhappy, my 
 friend. The things which I understand, however 
 threatening they are, I do not fear. Things which I 
 do not understand oppress me." 
 
 Dominey laughed quietly. 
 
 " Come," he said, " there is nothing here which seri- 
 ously threatens our position. The Princess is angry, 
 but she is not likely to give us away. This man 
 Wolff could make no adverse report about either of 
 us. We are doing our job and doing it well. Let 
 our clear consciences console us." 
 
 " That is well," Seaman replied, " but I feel un- 
 easy. I must not stay here any longer. Too 
 intimate an association between you and me is un- 
 wise." 
 
 " WeU, I think I can be trusted," Dominey ob- 
 served, " even if I am to be left alone." 
 
 " In every respect except as regards the Princess," 
 Seaman admitted, " your deportment has been most 
 discreet," 
 
 " Except as regards the Princess," Dominey re-
 
 254 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 peated irritably. " Really, my friend, I cannot un- 
 derstand 3'our point of view in this matter. You 
 could not expect me to mix up a secret honeymoon 
 with my present commitments ! " 
 
 " There might surely have been some middle way? " 
 Seaman persisted. " You show so much tact in other 
 matters." 
 
 " You do not know the Princess," Dominey mut- 
 tered. 
 
 Rosamund joined them for luncheon, bringinf^ 
 news of Stephanie's sudden departure, with notes and 
 messages for everybody. Caroline made a little 
 grimace at her host. 
 
 " You're in trouble ! " she whispered in his ear. 
 " All the same, I approve. I like Stephanie, but she 
 is an exceedingly dangerous person." 
 
 " I wonder whether she is," Dominey mused. 
 
 " I think men have generally found her so," Caro- 
 line replied. " She had one wonderful love affair, 
 which ended, as you know, in her husband being killed 
 in a duel and her lover being banished from the coun- 
 try. Still, she's not quite the sort of woman to be 
 content with a banished lover. I fancied I noticed 
 distinct signs of her being willing to replace him 
 whilst she has been down here ! " 
 
 " I feel as though a blight had settled upon my 
 house party," Dominey remarked with bland irrele- 
 vancy. " First Eddy, then Mr. Ludwig Miller, and 
 now Stephanie." 
 
 " And who on earth was Mr. Ludwig Miller, after 
 all.'^" Caroline enquired.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 255 
 
 " He was a fat, flaxen-haired German who brought 
 me messages from old friends in Africa. He had no 
 luggage but a walking stick, and he seems to have 
 upset the male part of my domestics last night by 
 accepting a bed and then disappearing ! " 
 
 "With the plate?" 
 
 " Not a thing missing. Parkins spent an agon- 
 ised half hour, counting everything. Mr. Ludwig 
 appears to be one of those unsolved mysteries which 
 go to make up an imperfect world." 
 
 "Well, we've had a jolly time," Caroline said 
 reminiscently. " To-morrow Henry and I are off, 
 and I suppose the others. I must say on the whole I 
 am delighted with our visit." 
 
 " You are very gracious," Dominey murmured. 
 
 " I came, perhaps, expecting to see a little more of 
 you," she w^ent on deliberately, " but there is a very 
 great compensation for my disappointment. I think 
 your wife, Everard, is worth taking trouble about. 
 She is perfectly sweet, and her manners are most 
 attractive." 
 
 " I am very glad you think that," he said warmly. 
 
 She looked away from him. 
 
 " Everard," she sighed, " I believe you are in love 
 with your wife." 
 
 There was a strange, almost a terrible mixture of 
 expressions in his face as he answered, — a certain 
 fear, a certain fondness, a certain almost desperate 
 resignation. Even his voice, as a rule so slow and 
 measured, shook with an emotion which amazed his 
 companion. 
 
 " I believe I am," he muttered. " I am afraid of
 
 256 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 my feelings for her. It may bring even another trag- 
 edy down upon us." 
 
 " Don't talk rubbish ! " Caroline exclaimed. 
 "What tragedy could come between you now? 
 YouVe recovered your balance. You are a strong, 
 steadfast person, just fitted to be the protector of 
 anything so sweet and charming as Rosamund. 
 Tragedy, indeed ! Why don't you take her down to 
 the South of France, Everard, and have your honey- 
 moon all over again?" 
 
 " I can't do that just yet." 
 
 She studied him curiously. There were times when 
 he seemed wholly incomprehensible to her. 
 
 " Are 3'ou still worried about that Unthank af- 
 fair? " she asked. 
 
 He hesitated for a moment. 
 
 " There is still an aftermath to our troubles," he 
 told her, " one cloud which leans over us. I shall 
 clear it up in time, — but other things may happen 
 first." 
 
 " You take yourself very seriously, Everard," she 
 observed, looking at him with a puzzled expression. 
 " One would think that there was a side of your life, 
 and a very important one, which you kept entirely 
 to 3^ourself. Why do you have that funny little 
 man Seaman always round with 3^ou? You're not 
 being blackmailed or anything, are you? " 
 
 " On the contrary," he told her, " Seaman was the 
 first founder of my fortunes." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " I have made a little mone^^ once or twice on the 
 Stock Exchange," she remarked, " but I didn't have
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 257 
 
 to carry my broker about in my pocket afterwards." 
 
 " Seaman is a good-hearted little fellow, and he 
 loves companionship. He will drift away presently, 
 and one won't see anything of him for ages." 
 
 " Henry began to wonder," she concluded drily, 
 " whether you were going to stand for Parliament 
 on the Anglo-German alliance ticket." 
 
 Dominey laughed as he caught Middleton's re- 
 proachful eye in the doorway of the farmer's kitchen 
 in which they were lunching. He gave the signal to 
 rise. 
 
 " I have had some thoughts of Parliament," he 
 admitted, " but — well, Henry need not worry."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 The next morning saw the breaking-up of Dom- 
 iney's carefully arranged shooting party. The 
 Prince took his host's arm and led him to one side 
 for a few moments, as the cars were being loaded up. 
 His first few words Avere of formal thanks. He spoke 
 then more intimately. 
 
 " Yon Ragastein," he said, " I desire to refer back 
 for a moment to our conversation the other day." 
 
 Dominey shook his head and glanced behind. 
 
 " I know only one name here. Prince." 
 
 " Dominey, then. I will confess that you play 
 and carry the part through perfectly. I have known 
 English gentlemen all my life, and you have the trick 
 of the thing. But listen. I have already told you 
 of my disapproval of this scheme in which you are 
 the central figure." 
 
 " It is understood," Dominey assented. 
 
 " That," the Prince continued, " is a personal mat- 
 ter. What I am now going to say to 3'ou is official. 
 I had despatches from Berlin last night. They con- 
 cern you." 
 
 Dominey seemed to stiffen a little. 
 
 "Well.?"" 
 
 " I am given to understand," the Ambassador con- 
 tinued, " that you practically exist onh' in the event 
 of that catastrophe which I, for one, cannot foresee.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 259 
 
 I am assured that if your exposure should take place 
 at any time, your personation will be regarded as a 
 private enterprise, and there is nothing whatever to 
 connect you with an}' political work," 
 
 " Up to the present that is absolutely so," Dom- 
 iney agreed. 
 
 " I am further advised to look upon you as my un- 
 named and unsuspected successor here, in the event 
 of war. For that reason I am begged to inaugurate 
 terms of intimacy with you, to treat you with the 
 utmost confidence, and, if the black end should come, 
 to leave in your hands all such unfulfilled work as can 
 be continued in secrecy and silence. I perhaps ex- 
 press myself in a somewhat confused manner." 
 
 " I understand perfectly," Dominey replied. 
 " The authorities have changed their first ideas as 
 to my presence here. They want to keep every 
 shadow of suspicion away from me, so that in the 
 event of war I shall have an absolute!}' unique posi- 
 tion, an unsuspected yet fervently patriotic German, 
 living hand in glove with the upper classes of Eng- 
 lish Society. One can well imagine that there would 
 be work for me." 
 
 " Our understanding is mutual," TernilofF de- 
 clared. " What I have to say to you, therefore, is 
 that I hope you will soon follow us to London and 
 give me the opportunity of offering you the constant 
 hospitality of Carlton House Gardens." 
 
 " You are very kind. Prince," Dominey said. 
 " My instructions are, as soon as I have consolidated 
 my position here — an event which I fancy I may 
 consider attained — to establish mvsclf in London
 
 26o THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 and to wait orders. I trust that amongst other 
 things you will then permit me to examine the mem- 
 oirs you spoke of the other day." 
 
 " Naturally, and with the utmost pleasure," the 
 Ambassador assented. " They are a faithful record 
 of my interviews and negotiations with certain Min- 
 isters here, and they reflect a desire and intention 
 for peace which will, I think, amaze you. — I ven- 
 ture now upon a somewhat delicate question," he 
 continued, changing the subject of their conversa- 
 tion abruptly, as they turned back along the terrace. 
 "Lady Dominey will accompan^^ you? " 
 
 " Of that I am not sure," Dominey replied thought- 
 fully. " I have noticed, Prince, if I may be allowed 
 to say so, your chivalrous regard for that lady. 
 You will permit me to assure you that in the peculiar 
 position in which I am placed I shall never forget 
 that she is the wife of Everard Dominey." 
 
 TernilofF shook hands heartily. 
 
 " I wanted to hear that from you," he admitted. 
 " You I felt instinctively were different, but there 
 are many men of our race who are willing enough to 
 sacrifice a woman without the slightest scruple, either 
 for their passions or their policy. I find Lady Dom- 
 iney charming." 
 
 " She will never lack a protector in me," Dominey 
 declared. 
 
 There were more farewells and, soon after, the 
 little procession of cars drove off. Rosamund her- 
 self was on the terrace, bidding all her guests fare- 
 well. She clung to Dominey's arm when at last they 
 turned back into the empty hall.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 261 
 
 " What dear people they were, Everard ! " she ex- 
 claimed. " I only wish that I had seen more of them. 
 The Duchess was perfectly charming to me, and I 
 never knew any one with such delightful manners 
 as Prince TernilofF. Are you going to miss them 
 very much, dear? " 
 
 " Not a bit," he answered. " I think I shall take 
 a gun now and stroll down the meadows and across 
 the rough ground. Will you come with me, or will 
 you put on one of your prettj' gowns and entertain 
 me downstairs at luncheon.'' It is a very long time 
 since we had a meal alone together." 
 
 She shook her head a little sadly. 
 
 " We never have had," she answered. " You know 
 that, Everard, and, alas ! I know it. But we are 
 going on pretending, aren't we? " 
 
 He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them. 
 
 " You shall pretend all that you like, dear Rosa- 
 mund," he promised, " and I will be the shadow of 
 your desires. No ! — No tears ! " he added quickly, 
 as she turned away. " Remember there is nothing 
 but happiness for 3'ou now. Whoever I am or am 
 not, that is my one aim in life." 
 
 She clutched at his hand passionately, and sud- 
 denly, as though finding it insufficient, twined her 
 arms around his neck and kissed him. 
 
 " Let me come with you," she begged. " I can't 
 bear to let you go. I'll be very quiet. Will you 
 wait ten minutes for me? " 
 
 " Of course," he answered. 
 
 He strolled down towards the gun room, stood by 
 the fire for a moment, and then wandered out into
 
 262 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 the courtyard, where Middleton and a couple of beat- 
 ers were waitmg for him with the dogs. He had 
 scarcely taken a step towards them, however, when 
 he stopped short. To his amazement Seaman was 
 there, standing a little on one side, with his eyes 
 fixed upon the windows of the servants' quarters. 
 
 " Hullo, my friend ! " he exclaimed. " Why, I 
 thought you went by the early train from Thursford 
 Station?" 
 
 " Missed it by two minutes," Seaman replied with 
 a glance towards the beaters. " I knew all the cars 
 were full for the eleven o'clock, so I thought I'd wait 
 tiU the afternoon." 
 
 " And where have you been to for the last few 
 hours, then .'' " 
 
 Seaman had reached his side now and was out of 
 earshot of the others. 
 
 " Trying to solve the mystery of Johann Wolff's 
 sudden departure last night. Come and walk down 
 the avenue with me a little way." 
 
 " A very short distance, then. I am expecting 
 Lady Dominey." 
 
 They passed through the thin iron gates and paced 
 along one of the back entrances to the Hall. 
 
 " Do not tliink me indiscreet," Seaman began. " I 
 returned without the knowledge of any one, and I 
 kept out of the way until they had all gone. It is 
 what I told 3^ou before. Things which I do not un- 
 derstand depress me, and behold ! I have found proof 
 this morning of a further significance in Wolff's sud- 
 den departure." 
 
 *' Proceed," Dominey begged.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 263 
 
 " I learned this morning, entirely by accident, that 
 Mr. Pelham's servant was either mistaken or wil- 
 fully deceived me. Wolff did not accompany your 
 butler to the station." 
 
 " And how did you find that out .'* " Dominey de- 
 manded. 
 
 " It is immaterial ! What is material is that there 
 is a sort of conspiracy amongst 'the servants here 
 to conceal the manner of his leaving. Do not in- 
 terrupt me, I beg ! Early this morning there was a 
 fresh fall of snow which has now disappeared. Out- 
 side the window of the room which I found locked 
 were the marks of footsteps and the tracks of a 
 small car." 
 
 " And what do you gather from all this .'' " Dom- 
 iney- asked. 
 
 " I gather that AVolff must have had friends in the 
 neighbourhood," Seaman replied, " or else — " 
 
 "WeU.^" 
 
 " My last supposition sounds absurd," Seaman 
 confessed, " but the whole matter is so incomprehen- 
 sible that I was going to say — or else he was forcibly 
 removed." 
 
 Dominey laughed softly. 
 
 " Wolff would scarcely have been an easy man 
 to abduct, would he," he remarked, " even if we 
 could hit upon any plausible reason for such a thing! 
 As a matter of fact. Seaman," he concluded, turn- 
 ing on his heel a little abruptly as he saw Rosamund 
 standing in the avenue, " I cannot bring myself to 
 treat this Johann Wolff business seriously. Granted 
 that the man was a spy, well, let him get on with it.
 
 264 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 We are doing our job here in the most perfect and 
 praiseworthy fashion. We neither of us have the 
 ghost of a secret to hide from his employers." 
 
 " In a sense that is true," Seaman admitted. 
 
 "Well, then, cheer up," Dominey enjoined. 
 " Take a little walk with us, and we will see whether 
 Parkins cannot find us a bottle of that old Bur- 
 gundy for lunch. How does that sound, eh? " 
 
 " If you will excuse me from taking the walk," 
 Seaman begged, " I would like to remain here until 
 your return." 
 
 " You are more likely to do harm," Dominey re- 
 minded him, " and set the servants talking, if you 
 show too much interest in this man's disappearance." 
 
 " I shall be careful," Seaman promised, " but there 
 are certain things which I cannot help. I work al- 
 ways from instinct, and my instinct is never wrong. 
 I will ask no more questions of your servants, but I 
 know that there is something mysterious about the 
 sudden departure of Johann Wolff." 
 
 Dominey and Rosamund returned about one o'clock 
 to find only a note from Seaman, which the former 
 tore open as his companion stood warming her feet 
 in front of the fire. There were only a few lines : 
 
 " I am following an idea. It takes me to London. 
 Let us meet there within a few days. 
 
 " S." 
 
 " Has he really gone.^ " Rosamund asked. 
 " Back to London." 
 
 She laughed happily. " Then we shall lunch a 
 deua: after all ! Delightful I I have my wish ! "
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 265 
 
 There was a sudden glow in Dominey's face, a glow 
 which was instantly suppressed. 
 
 " Shall I ever have mine? " he asked, with a queer 
 little break in his voice.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 TernilofF and Dominey, one morning about six 
 months later, lounged underneath a great elm tree at 
 Ranelagh, having iced drinks after a round of golf. 
 Several millions of perspiring Englishmen were at 
 the same moment studying with dazed wonder the 
 headlines in the midday papers. 
 
 " I suppose," the Ambassador remarked, as he 
 leaned back in his chair with an air of lazy content, 
 *' that I am being accused of fiddling while Rome 
 burns." 
 
 " Every one has certainly not your confidence in 
 the situation," Domine}^ rejoined calmly, 
 
 " There is no one else who knows quite so much," 
 TernilofF reminded him. 
 
 Dominey sipped his drink for a moment or two in 
 silence. 
 
 " Have you the latest news of the Russian mobi- 
 lisation.'* " he asked " They had some startling fig- 
 ures in the city this morning." 
 
 The Prince waved his hand. 
 
 " My faith is not founded on these extraneous in- 
 cidents," he replied. " If Russia mobilises, it is for 
 defence. No nation in the world would dream of 
 attacking Germany, nor has Germany the slightest 
 intention of imperilling her coming supremacy
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 267 
 
 amongst the nations by such crude methods as mili- 
 tar}' enterprise. Servia must be punished, naturally, 
 but to that, in principle, every nation in Europe is 
 agreed. We shall not permit Austria to overstep 
 the mark." 
 
 " You are at least consistent, Prince," Dominey 
 remarked. 
 
 Terniloff smiled. 
 
 " That is because I have been taken behind the 
 scenes," he said. " I have been shown, as is the 
 privilege of ambassadors, the mind of our rulers. 
 You, my friend," he went on, " spent your youth 
 amongst the military faction. You think that you 
 are the most important people in Germany. Well, 
 you are not. The Kaiser has willed it otherwise. — 
 By-the-by, I had yesterday a most extraordinary 
 cable from Stephanie." 
 
 Dominey ceased swinging his putter carelessly 
 over the head of a daisy and turned his head to listen. 
 
 " Is she on the wa}' home ? " 
 
 " She is due in Southampton at any moment now. 
 She wants to know where she can see me immediately 
 upon her arrival, as she has information of the ut- 
 most importance to give me." 
 
 " Did she ever tell you the reason for her journey 
 to Africa.?" 
 
 " She was most mysterious about it. If such an 
 idea had had any logical outcome, I should have 
 surmised that she was going there to seek information 
 as to your past." 
 
 " She gave Seaman the same idea," Dominey ob- 
 served. " I scarcely see what she has to gain. In
 
 268 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Africa, as a matter of fact," he went on, " my life 
 would bear the strictest investigation." 
 
 " The whole affair is singularly foolish," the Prince 
 declared. " Still, I am not sure that you have been 
 altogether wise. Even accepting your position, I 
 see no reason why you should not have obeyed the 
 Kaiser's behest. My experience of your Society 
 here is that love affairs between men and women 
 moving in the same circles are not uncommon." 
 
 " That," Dominey urged, " is when they are all 
 tarred with the same brush. jNIy behaviour towards 
 Lady Dominey has been culpable enough as it is. 
 To have placed her in the position of a neglected 
 wife would have been indefensible. Further, it might 
 have affected the position which it is in the interests 
 of my work that I should maintain here." 
 
 "An old subject," the Ambassador sighed, "best 
 not rediscussed. Behold, our womenkind ! " 
 
 Rosamund and the Princess had issued from the 
 house, and the two men hastened to meet them. The 
 latter looked charming, exquisitely gowned, and 
 stately in appearance. By her side Rosamund, 
 dressed with the same success but in younger fashion, 
 seemed almost like a child. They passed into the 
 luncheon room, crowded with many little parties of 
 distinguished and interesting people, brilliant with 
 the red livery of the waiters, the profusion of flowers 
 — all that nameless elegance which had made the 
 place Society's most popular rendezvous. The 
 women, as they settled into their places, asked a 
 question which was on the lips of a great many Eng- 
 lish people that day.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 269 
 
 " Is there any news ? " 
 
 TerniloflP perhaps felt that he was the cynosure 
 of many eager and anxious eyes. He smiled light- 
 heartedly as he answered: 
 
 " None. If there were, I am convinced that it 
 would be good. I have been allowed to play out 
 my titanic struggle against Sir Everard without in- 
 terruption." 
 
 " I suppose the next important question to whether 
 it is to be peace or war is, how did you play.'' " the 
 Princess asked. 
 
 " I surpassed myself," her husband replied, " but 
 of course no ordinary human golfer is of any ac- 
 count against Domine}'. He plaj^s far too well for 
 any self-respecting Ger — " 
 
 The Ambassador broke off and paused while he 
 helped himself to mayonnaise. 
 
 " For any self-respecting German to play 
 against," he concluded. 
 
 Luncheon was a very pleasant meal, and a good 
 many people noticed the vivacity of the beautiful 
 Lady Dominey whose picture was beginning to appear 
 in the illustrated papers. Afterwards they drank 
 coffee and sipped liqueurs under a great elm tree on 
 the lawn, listening to the music and congratulating 
 themselves upon having made their escape from Lon- 
 don. In the ever-shifting panorama of gaily-dressed 
 women and flannel-clad men, the monotony- of which 
 was varied here and there by the passing of a di- 
 plomatist or a Frenchman, scrupulously attired in 
 morning clothes, were many familiar faces. Caro- 
 line and a little group of friends waved to them from
 
 270 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 the terrace. Eddy Pelham, in immaculate white, and 
 a long tennis coat with dark blue edgings, paused to 
 speak to them on liis way to the courts. 
 
 " How is the motor business, Eddy ? " Dominey 
 asked, with a twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 " So, so ! I'm not quite so keen as I was. To 
 tell you the truth," the young man confided, glanc- 
 ing around and lowering his voice so that no one 
 should share the momentous information, " I was 
 lucky enough to pick up a small share in Jere 
 Moore's racing stable at Newmarket, the other day. 
 I fancy I know a little more about gee-gees than I 
 do about the inside of motors, what? " 
 
 " I should think very possibly that you are right," 
 Dominey assented, as the young man passed on with 
 a farewell salute. 
 
 Terniloff looked after him curiously. 
 
 " It is the type of young man, that," he declared, 
 " which we cannot understand. What would happen 
 to him, in the event of a war.? — In the event of his 
 being called upon, say, either to fight or do some 
 work of national importance for his country.'' " 
 
 " I expect he would do it," Dominey replied. " He 
 would do it pluckily, whole-heartedly and badly. 
 He is a type of the upper-class young Englishman, 
 over-sanguine and entirely undisciplined. They ex- 
 pect, and their country expects for them, that in the 
 case of emergency pluck would take the place of 
 training." 
 
 The Right Honourable Gerald Watson stood upon 
 the steps talking to the wife of the Italian Ambas- 
 sador. She left him presently, and he came strolling
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 271 
 
 down the lawn with his hands behind his back and his 
 eyes seeming to see out past the golf links. 
 
 " There goes a man," TernilofF murmured, " whom 
 lately I have found changed. When I first came 
 liere he met me quite openly. I believe, even now, 
 he is sincerel}' desirous of peace and amicable rela- 
 tions between our two countries, and yet something 
 has fallen between us. I cannot tell what it is. I 
 cannot tell even of what nature it is, but I have 
 an instinct for people's attitude towards me, and 
 the English are the worst race in the world at hid- 
 ing their feelings. Has ]Mr. Watson, I wonder, come 
 under the spell of 3'our connection, the Duke of 
 Worcester? He seemed so friendly with both of us 
 down in Norfolk." 
 
 Their womenkind left them at that moment to talk 
 to some acquaintances seated a short distance away. 
 Mr. Watson, passing within a few yards of them, was 
 brought to a standstill by Domine^-'s greeting. 
 They talked for a moment or two upon idle subjects. 
 
 "Your news, I trust, continues favourable.''" the 
 Ambassador remarked, observing the etiquette which 
 required him to be the first to leave the realms of 
 ordinary conversation. 
 
 " It is a little negative in quality," the other an- 
 swered, after a moment's hesitation. " I am sum- 
 moned to Downing Street again at six o'clock." 
 
 " I have already confided the result of my morn- 
 ing despatches to the Prime Minister," Terniloff ob- 
 served. 
 
 " I went through them before I came down here," 
 was the somewhat doubtful reply.
 
 272 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " You will have appreciated, I hope, their gen- 
 uinely pacific tone? " TernilofF asked anxiously. 
 
 His interlocutor bowed and then drew himself up. 
 It was obvious that the strain of the last few days 
 was telling upon him. There were lines about his 
 mouth, and his eyes spoke of sleepless nights. 
 
 " Words are idle things to deal with at a time like 
 this," he said. " One thing, however, I will venture 
 to say to you, Prince, here and under these circum- 
 stances. There will be no war unless it be the will 
 of your country." 
 
 TernilofF was for a moment unusually pale. It 
 was an episode of unrecorded history. He rose to 
 his feet and raised his hat. 
 
 " There will be no war," he said solemnly. 
 
 The Cabinet Minister passed on with a lighter step. 
 Dominey, more clearly than ever before, understood 
 the subtle policy which had chosen for his great posi- 
 tion a man as chivalrous and faithful and yet as 
 simple-minded as Terniloff. He looked after the re- 
 treating figure of the Cabinet ^Minister with a slight 
 smile at the corner of his lips. 
 
 " In a time like this," he remarked significantly, 
 " one begins to understand why one of our great 
 writers — was it Bernhardi, I wonder .-^ — has writ- 
 ten that no island could ever breed a race of di- 
 plomatists." 
 
 " The seas which engirdle this island," the Am- 
 bassador said thoughtfully, " have brought to Eng- 
 land great weal, as they may bring to her much woe. 
 The too-nimble brain of the diplomat has its parallel 
 of insincerity in the people whose interests he seems
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 273 
 
 to guard. I believe in the honesty of the English 
 politicians. I have placed that belief on record in 
 the small volume of memoirs which I shall pres- 
 ently entrust to you. But we talk too seriously for 
 a summer afternoon. Let us illustrate to the world 
 our opinion of the political situation and play an- 
 other nine holes at golf." 
 
 Dominey rose willingly to his feet, and the two 
 men strolled away towards the first tee. 
 
 " By the by," Terniloff asked, " what of our cheer- 
 ful little friend Seaman .f" He ought to be busy just 
 now." 
 
 " Curiously enough, he is returning from Ger- 
 many to-night," Dominey announced. " I expect 
 him at Berkeley Square. He is coming direct to 
 me."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 These were days, to all dwellers in London, of 
 vivid impressions, of poignant memories, reasserting 
 themselves afterwards with a curious sense of un- 
 reality, as though belonging to another set of days 
 and another world. Dominey long remembered his 
 dinner that evening in the sombre, handsomely fur- 
 nished dining-room of his town house in Berkeley 
 Square. Although it lacked the splendid propor- 
 tions of the banqueting hall at Dominey, it was still 
 a fine apartment, furnished in the Georgian period, 
 with some notable pictures upon the walls, and with 
 a wonderful ceiling and fireplace. Dominey and 
 Rosamund dined alone, and though the table had been 
 reduced to its smallest proportions, the space be- 
 tween them was yet considerable. As soon as Par- 
 kins had gravely put the port upon the table, Rosa- 
 mund rose to her feet and, instead of leaving the 
 room, pointed for the servant to place a chair for 
 her by Dominey's side. 
 
 " I shall be like your men friends, Everard," she 
 declared, " when the ladies have left, and draw up 
 to your side. Now what do we do.^ Tell stories.'' 
 I promise you that I will be a wonderful listener." 
 
 " First of all you drink half a glass of this port," 
 he declared, filling her glass, " then you peel me one
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 275 
 
 of those peaches, and we divide it. After which we 
 listen for a ring at the bell. To-night I expect a 
 visitor." 
 
 "A visitor?" 
 
 " Not a social one," he assured her. " A matter 
 of business which I fear will take me from you for 
 the rest of the evening. So let us make the most of 
 the time until he comes." 
 
 She commenced her task with the peach, talking 
 to him all the time a little gravely, a sweet and pic- 
 turesque picture of a graceful and very desirable 
 woman, her delicate shape and artistic fragility more 
 than ever accentuated by the sombreness of the back- 
 ground. 
 
 " Do you know, Everard," she said, " I am so 
 happy in London here with you, and I feel all the 
 time so strong and well. I can read and understand 
 the books which were a maze of print to me before. 
 I can see the things in the pictures, and feel the thrill 
 of the music, which seemed to come to me, somehow, 
 before, all dislocated and discordant. You under- 
 stand, dear.'' " 
 
 " Of course," he answered gravely. 
 
 " I do not wonder," she went on, " that Doctor 
 Harrison is proud of me for a patient, but there are 
 many times when I feel a dull pain in my heart, be- 
 cause I know that, whatever he or anybody else 
 might say, I am not quite cured." 
 
 " Rosamund dear," he protested. 
 
 " Ah, but don't interrupt," she insisted, deposit- 
 ing his share of the peach upon his plate. " How 
 can I be cured when all the time there is the problem
 
 276 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 of you, the problem which I am just as far off 
 solving as ever I was? Often I find myself compar- 
 ing you with the Everard whom I married." 
 
 " Do I fail so often to come up to his standard? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " You never fail," she answered, looking at him 
 with brimming eyes. " Of course, he was very much 
 more affectionate," she went on, after a moment's 
 pause. " His kisses were not like yours. And he 
 was far fonder of having me with him. Then, on 
 the other hand, often when I wanted him he was 
 not there, he did wild things, mad things ; he seemed 
 to forget me altogether. It was that," she went on, 
 " that was so terrible. It was that which made me 
 so nervous. I think that I should even have been 
 able to stand those awful moments when he came back 
 to me, covered with blood and reeling, if it had not 
 been that I was already almost a wreck. You know, 
 he killed Roger Unthank that night. That is why 
 he was never able to come back." 
 
 " Why do you talk of these things to-night, Rosa- 
 mund," Dominey begged. 
 
 " I must, dear," she insisted, laying her fingers 
 upon his hand and looking at him curiously. " I 
 must, even though I see how they distress you. It 
 is wonderful that you should mind so much, Everard, 
 but you do, and I love you for it." 
 
 " Mind? " he groaned. " Mind ! " 
 
 " You are so like him and yet so different," she 
 went on meditatively. " You drink so little wine, you 
 are always so self-controlled, so serious. You live 
 as though you had a life around you of which others
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 277 
 
 knew nothing. Tlic Everard I remember would never 
 have ffared about being a magistrate or going into 
 Parliament. He would never have had ambassadors 
 for his friends. He would have spent his time racing 
 or yachting, hunting or shooting, as the fancy took 
 him. And yet — " 
 
 " And yet what ? " Dominey asked, a little 
 hoarsely. 
 
 " I think he loved me better than you," she said 
 very sadly. 
 
 " Wliy .? " he demanded. 
 
 " I cannot tell you," she answered, with her eyes 
 upon her plate, " but I think that he did." 
 
 Dominey walked suddenly to the window and 
 leaned out. There were drops of moisture upon his 
 forehead, he felt the fierce need of air. When he 
 came back she was still sitting there, still looking 
 down. 
 
 " I have spoken to Doctor Harrison about it," 
 she went on, her voice scarcely audible. " He told 
 me that you probabh' loved more than you dcared 
 to show, because some day the real Everard might 
 come back." 
 
 " That is quite true," he reminded her softly. 
 " He may come back at any moment." 
 
 She gripped his hand, her voice shook with pas- 
 sion. She leaned towards him, her other arm stole 
 around his neck. 
 
 " But I don't want him to come back ! " she cried. 
 " I want you ! " 
 
 Dominey sat for a moment motionless, like a figure 
 of stone. Through the wide-flung, bUnd-shielded
 
 278 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 windows came the raucous cry of a newsboy, break- 
 ing the stillness of the summer evening. And then 
 another and sharper interruption, — the stopping of 
 a taxicab outside, the firm, insistent ringing of the 
 front doorbell. Recollection came to Dominey, and 
 a great strength. The fire which had leaped up 
 within him was thrust back. His response to her 
 wave of passion was infinitely tender. 
 
 " Dear Rosamund," he said, " that front doorbell 
 summons me to rather an important interview. Will 
 you please trust in me a little while longer? Believe 
 me, I am not in any way cold. I am not indifferent. 
 There is something which you will have to be told, — 
 something with which I never reckoned, something 
 which is beginning to weigh upon me night and day. 
 Trust me, Rosamund, and wait ! " 
 
 She sank back into her chair with a piquant and 
 yet pathetic little grimace. 
 
 " You tell me always to wait," she complained. 
 " I will be patient, but you shall tell me this. You 
 are so kind to me. You make or mar my life. You 
 must care a little.'' Please.'^ " 
 
 He was standing up now. He kissed her hands 
 fondly. His voice had all the old ring in it. 
 
 " More than for any woman on earth, dear Rosa- 
 mund ! " 
 
 Seaman, in a light grey suit, a panama, and a 
 white beflowered tie, had lost something of the placid 
 urbanity of a few months ago. He was hot and 
 tired with travel. There were new lines in his face 
 and a queer expression of anxiety about his eyes,
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 279 
 
 at the corners of which little wrinkles had begun 
 to appear. He responded to Dominey's welcome 
 with a fervour which was almost feverish, scrutinised 
 him closely, as though expecting to find some change, 
 and finally sank into an easy-chair with a little ges- 
 ture of relief. He had been carrying a small, brown 
 despatch case, which he laid on the carpet by his side. 
 
 "You have news?" Dominey asked. 
 
 " Yes," was the momentous reply, " I have news." 
 
 Dominey rang the bell. He had already surmised, 
 from the dressing-case and coats in the hall, that his 
 visitor had come direct from the station. 
 
 " What will you have? " he enquired. 
 
 " A bottle of hock with seltzer water, and ice if 
 you have it," Seaman replied. " Also a plate of 
 cold meat, but it must be served here. And after- 
 wards the biggest cigar you have. I have indeed 
 news, news disturbing, news magnificent, news as- 
 tounding." 
 
 Dominey gave some orders to the servant who an- 
 swered his summons. For a few moments they spoke 
 trivialities of the journey. When everything was 
 served, however, and the door closed. Seaman could 
 wait no longer. His appetite, his thirst, his speech, 
 seemed all stimulated to swift action. 
 
 " We are of the same temperament," he said. 
 " That I know. W^e will speak first of what is more 
 than disturbing — a little terrifying. The mystery 
 of Johann WolfF has been solved." 
 
 " The man who came to us with messages from 
 Schmidt in South Africa? " Dominey asked. " I had 
 almost forgotten about him."
 
 28o THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " The same. What was at the back of his visit 
 to us that night I cannot even now imagine. Neither 
 is it clear why he held aloof from me, who am his 
 superior in practically the same service. There we 
 are, from the commencement, confronted with a very 
 singular happening, but scarcely so singular as the 
 denouement. WolfF vanished from your house that 
 night into an English fortress." 
 
 " It seems incredible," Dominey declared bluntly. 
 
 " It is nevertheless true," Seaman insisted. " No 
 member of our service is allowed to remain more than 
 one month without communicating his existence and 
 whereabouts to headquarters. No word has been re- 
 ceived from Wolff since that night in January. On 
 the other hand, indirect information has reached us 
 that he is in durance over here." 
 
 " But such a thing is against the law, unheard 
 of," Dominey protested. " No country can keep the 
 citizen of another country in prison without formu- 
 lating a definite charge or bringing him up for trial." 
 
 Seaman smiled grimly. 
 
 " That's all very well in any ordinary case," he 
 said. " Wolff has been a marked man for years, 
 though. Wilhelmstrasse would soon make fuss 
 enough, if it were of any use, but it would not be. 
 There are one or two Englishmen in German prisons 
 at the present moment, concerning whose welfare the 
 English Foreign Office has not even thought it worth 
 while to enquire. What troubles me more than the 
 actual fact of Wolff's disappearance is the mystery 
 of his visit to you and his apprehension practically 
 on the spot."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 281 
 
 " 'Hiey must have tracked him down there," Dom- 
 iney remarked. 
 
 " Yes, but they couldn't thrust a pair of tongs 
 into your butler's sitting-room, extract Johann Wolff, 
 and set him down inside Norwich Castle or whatever 
 prison he may be in," Seaman objected. " How- 
 ever, the most disquieting feature about Wolff is 
 that it introduces something we don't understand. 
 For the rest, we have many men as good, and better, 
 and the time for their utility is past. You are our 
 great hope now, Dominey." 
 
 "It is to be, then.?" 
 
 Seaman took a long and ecstatic draught of his 
 hock and seltzer. 
 
 " It is to be," he declared solemnly. " There was 
 never any doubt about it. If Russia ceases to mobi- 
 lise to-morrow, if every statesman in Servia crawls 
 to Vienna with a rope around his neck, the result 
 would still be the same. The word has gone out. 
 The whole of Germany is like a vast military camp. 
 It comes exacth^ twelve months before the final day 
 fixed by our great authorities, but the opportunity is 
 too great, too wonderful for hesitation. By the end 
 of August we shall be in Paris." 
 
 " You bring news indeed ! " Dominey murmured, 
 standing for a moment by the opened window. 
 
 " I have been received with favour in the very 
 loftiest circles," Seaman continued. " You and I 
 both stand high in the list of those to whom great 
 rewards shall come. His Majesty approves alto- 
 gether of your reluctance to avail yourself of his 
 permission to wed the Princess Eiderstrom. ' Von
 
 282 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Ragastein has decided well,' he declared. ' These are 
 not the days for marriage or giving in marriage, 
 these, the most momentous daj's the world has ever 
 known, the days when an empire shall spring into 
 being, the mightiest since the Continents fell into 
 shape and the stars looked down upon this present 
 world.' Those are the words of the All Highest. 
 In his eyes the greatest of all attributes is singleness 
 of purpose. You followed your own purpose, con- 
 trary to my advice, contrary to TernilofF's. You 
 will gain by it." 
 
 Seaman finished his meal in due course, and the 
 tray was removed. Soon the two men were alone 
 again, Seaman puffing out dense volumes of smoke, 
 gripping his cigar between his teeth, brandishing it 
 sometimes in his hand to give effect to his words. 
 A little of his marvellous caution seemed to have de- 
 serted him. For the first time ae spoke directly to 
 his companion. 
 
 " Von Ragastein," he said, " it is a great country, 
 ours. It is a wonderful empire we shall build. To- 
 night I am on fire with the mighty things. I have 
 a list of instructions for you, man}' details. They 
 can wait. We will talk of our future, our great and 
 glorious destiny as the mightiest nation who has ever 
 earned for herself the right to govern the world. 
 You would think that in Germany there was excite- 
 ment. There is none. The task of every one is al- 
 lotted, their work made clear to them. Like a mighty 
 piece of gigantic machinery, we move towards war. 
 Every regiment knows its station, every battery com- 
 mander knows his positions, every general knows his
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 283 
 
 exact line of attack. Rations, clothing, hospitals, 
 every unit of which 3^ou can think, has its movements 
 calculated out for it to the last nicety." 
 
 "And the final result?" Dominey asked. "Is 
 that also calculated? " 
 
 Seaman, with trembling fingers, unlocked the little 
 despatch box which stood by his side and took from 
 it jealously a sheet of linen-backed parchment. 
 
 " You, my friend," he said, " are one of the first 
 to gaze upon this. This will show you the dream of 
 our Kaiser. This will show 3'ou the framework of 
 the empire that is to be." 
 
 He laid out a map upon the table. The two men 
 bent over it. It was a map of Europe, in which Eng- 
 land, a diminished France, Spain, Portugal and Italy, 
 were painted in dark blue. For the rest, the whole 
 of the space included between two lines, one from 
 Hamburg to Athens, the other from Finland to the 
 Black Sea, was painted a deep scarlet, with here and 
 there portions of it in slightly lighter colouring. 
 Seaman laid his palm upon the map. 
 
 " There lies our future Empire," he said solemnly 
 and impressively. 
 
 " Explain it to me," Dominey begged. 
 
 " Broadl}^ speaking, everj^thing between those two 
 lines belongs to the new German Empire. Poland, 
 Courland, Lithuania and the Ukraine will possess a 
 certain degree of autonomous government, which 
 will practicall}^ amount to nothing. Asia is there 
 at our feet. No longer will Great Britain control 
 the supplies of the world. Raw materials of every 
 description will be ours. Leather, tallow, wheat, oil.
 
 284 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 fats, timber — they are all there for us to draw upon. 
 And for wealth — India and China ! What more 
 would you have, my friend? " 
 
 " You take my breath away. But what about Aus- 
 tria? " 
 
 Seaman's grin was almost sardonic. 
 
 " Austria," he said, " must already feel her doom 
 creeping upon her. There is no room in middle Eu- 
 rope for two empires, and the House of Hapsburg 
 must fall before the House of Hohenzollern. Aus- 
 tria, body and soul, must become part of the German 
 Empire. Then further down, mark you. Roumania 
 must become a vassal state or be conquered. Bul- 
 garia is already ours. Turke}', with Constantinople, 
 is pledged. Greece will either join us or be wiped 
 out. Servia will be blotted from the map ; probably 
 also Montenegro. Those countries which are painted 
 in fainter red, like Turkey, Bulgaria and Greece, be- 
 come vassal states, to be absorbed one by one as op- 
 portunity presents itself." 
 
 Domine3''s finger strayed northward. 
 
 " Belgium," he observed, " has disappeared." 
 
 " Belgium we shall occupy and enslave," Seaman 
 replied. " Our line of advance into France lies that 
 way, and we need her ports to dominate the Thames. 
 Holland and the Scandinavian countries, as you ob- 
 serve, are left in the lighter shade of red. If an 
 opportunity occurs, Holland and Denmark may be 
 incited to take the field against us. If they do so, it 
 means absorption. If they remain, as they probably 
 will, scared neutrals, they will none the less be our 
 vassal states when the last gun has been fired."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 285 
 
 " And Norway and Sweden ? " 
 
 Seaman looked down at the map and smiled. 
 
 " Look at them," he said. " They lie at our 
 merc3% Norway has her western seaboard, and there 
 might always be the question of British aid, so far 
 as she is concerned. But Sweden is ours, body and 
 soul. ]More than any other of these vassal states, 
 it is our master's plan to bring her into complete 
 subjection. We need her lusty manhood, the finest 
 cannon food in the world, for later wars, if indeed 
 such a thing should be. She has timber and min- 
 erals which we also need. — But there — it is 
 enough. First of all men in this country, my friend, 
 you, Von Ragastein, have gazed upon this picture of 
 the future." 
 
 " This is marvellously conceived," Dominey mut- 
 tered, " but what of Russia with her millions.'' How 
 is it that we propose, notwithstanding her countless 
 millions of men, to help ourselves to her richest prov- 
 inces, to drive a way through the heart of her em- 
 pire.? " 
 
 " This," Seaman replied, " is where genius steps 
 in. Russia has been ripe for a revolution any time 
 for the last fifteen years. We have secret agents now 
 in every city and country place and throughout the 
 army. We shall teach Russia how to make herself 
 a free country." 
 
 Domine}' shivered a little with an almost involun- 
 tary repulsion. For the second time that almost 
 satyr-like grin on Seaman's face revolted him. 
 
 " And what of my own work .'' " 
 
 Seaman helped himself to a liqueur. He was, as a
 
 286 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 rule, a moderate man, but this was the third time he 
 had replenished his glass since his hasty meal. 
 
 " My brain is weary, fi'iend," he admitted, pass- 
 ing his hand over his forehead. " I have a great fa- 
 tigue. The thoughts jump about. This last week 
 has been one of fierce excitements. Ever^'thing, al- 
 most your daily life, has been planned. We shall go 
 over it within a day or so. Meanwhile, remember 
 this. It is our great aim to keep England out of 
 the war." 
 
 " Terniloff is right, then, after all ! " Dominey ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 Seaman laughed scornfully. 
 
 " If we want England out of the war," he pointed 
 out, " it is not that we desire her friendship. It is 
 that we may crush her the more easily when Calais, 
 Boulogne and Havre are in our hands. That will 
 be in three months' time. Then perhaps our atti- 
 tude towards England may change a little ! Now 
 I go." _ 
 
 Dominey folded up the map with reluctance. His 
 companion shook his head. It was curious that he, 
 too, for the first time in his life upon the same day, 
 addressed his host differently. 
 
 " Baron von Ragastein," he said, " there are six of 
 those maps in existence. That one is for you. Lock 
 it away and guard it as though it were your greatest 
 treasure on earth, but when you are alone, bring it 
 out and study it. It shall be your inspiration, it 
 shall lighten your moments of depression, give you 
 courage when you are in danger ; it shall fill your mind 
 with pride and wonder. It is yours."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 287 
 
 Dominey folded it carcfulh^ up, crossed the room, 
 unlocked a little safe and deposited it therein. 
 
 " I shall guard it, according to your behest, as 
 my greatest treasure," he assured his departing 
 guest, with a fervour which surprised even himself.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 There was something dramatic, in the most lurid 
 sense of the word, about the brief telephone message 
 which Dominey received, not so many hours later, 
 from Carlton House Terrace. In a few minutes he 
 was moving through the streets, still familiar yet 
 already curiously changed. Men and women were 
 going about their business as usual, but an air of 
 stupefaction was everywhere apparent. Practically 
 every loiterer was studying a newspaper, every 
 chance acquaintance had stopped to confer with his 
 fellows. War, alternately the joke and bogey of the 
 conversationalist, stretched her grey hands over the 
 sunlit city. Even the lightest-hearted felt a thrill of 
 apprehension at the thought of the horrors that were 
 to come. In a day or two all this was to be changed. 
 People went about then counting the Russian mil- 
 lions ; the steamroller fetish was to be evolved. The 
 most peaceful stockbroker or shopkeeper, who had 
 never even been to a review in his life, could make 
 calculations of man power with a stump of pencil on 
 the back of an old envelope, which would convince 
 the greatest pessimist that Germany and Austria were 
 outnumbered by at least three to one. But on this 
 particular morning, people were too stunned for cal- 
 culations. The incredible had happened. The long- 
 discussed war — the nightmare of the nervous, the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 289 
 
 derision of the optimist — had actually materialised. 
 The happy-go-lucky years of peace and plenty had 
 suddenly come to an end. Black tragedy leaned over 
 the land. 
 
 Dominey, avoiding acquaintances as far as pos- 
 sible, his own mind in a curious turmoil, passed down 
 St. James's Street and along Pall Mall and presented 
 himself at Carlton House Terrace. Externally, the 
 great white building, with its rows of flower boxes, 
 showed no signs of undue perturbation. Inside, how- 
 ever, the anteroom was crowded with callers, and it 
 was only by the intervention of TernilofF's private 
 secretary, who was awaiting him, that Dominey was 
 able to reach the inner sanctum where the Ambassador 
 was busy dictating letters. He broke off immedi- 
 ately his visitor was announced and dismissed every 
 one, including his secretaries. Then he locked the 
 door. 
 
 " Von Ragastein," he groaned, " I am a broken 
 man ! " 
 
 Dominey grasped his hand sympathetically. Ter- 
 niloff seemed to have aged years even in the last few 
 hours. 
 
 " I sent for you," he continued, " to say farewell, 
 to say farewell and to make a confession. You were 
 right, and I was wrong. It would have been better 
 if I had remained and played the country farmer on 
 my estates. I was never shrewd enough to see until 
 now that I have been made the cat's-paw of the very 
 men whose policy I always condemned." 
 
 His visitor still remained silent. There was so 
 little that he could say.
 
 290 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I have worked for peace," TernilofF went on, 
 " believing that my country wanted peace. I have 
 worked for peace with honourable men who were just 
 as anxious as I was to secure it. But all the time 
 those for whom I laboured were making faces behind 
 my back. I was nothing more nor less than their 
 tool. I know now that nothing in this world could 
 have hindered what is coming." 
 
 " Every one will at least realise," Dominey re- 
 minded him, ""that you did your best for peace." 
 
 " That is one reason why I sent for you," was the 
 agitated reply. " Not long ago I spoke of a little 
 volume, a diary which I have been keeping of ni}' 
 work in this country. I promised to show it to you. 
 You have asked me for it several times lately. I am 
 going to show it to you now. It is written up to 
 yesterday. It will tell you of all my efforts and 
 how they were foiled. It is an absolutely faithful 
 narrative of my work here and the English response 
 to it." 
 
 The Prince crossed the room, unlocked one of the 
 smaller safes, which stood against the side of the 
 wall, withdrew a morocco-bound volume the size of 
 a small portfolio, and returned to Dominey. 
 
 " I beg you," he said earnestly, " to read this with 
 the utmost care and to await my instructions with 
 regard to it. You can judge, no doubt," he went 
 on a little bitterly, " why I give it into your keeping. 
 Even the Embassy here is not free from our own 
 spies, and the existence of these memoirs is known. 
 The moment I reach Germany, their fate is assured. 
 I am a German and a patriot, although my heart is
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 291 
 
 bitter against those who are bringing this blot upon 
 our country. For that reason, these memoirs must 
 be kept in a safe place until I see a good use for 
 them." 
 
 " You mean if the governing party in Germany 
 should change? " 
 
 " Precisely ! They would then form at once my 
 justification, and place English diplomacy in such a 
 light before the saner portion of my fellow countr}^- 
 men that an honourable peace might be rendered 
 possible. Study them carcfulh', Von Ragastein. 
 Perhaps even your own allegiance to the Party you 
 serve may waver for a moment as you read." 
 
 " I serve no Party," Dominey said quietly, " only 
 my Country." 
 
 TernilofF sighed. 
 
 " Alas ! there is no time for us to enter into one 
 of our old arguments on the ethics of government. I 
 must send you away, Von Ragastein. You have a 
 terrible task before you. I am bound to wish 3^ou 
 Godspeed. For m3^sclf I shall not raise my head 
 again until I have left England." 
 
 " There is no other commission ? " Dominey asked. 
 " No other way in which I can serve you.'' " 
 
 " None," TernilofF answered sadly. " I am per- 
 mitted to suffer no inconveniences. My departure is 
 arranged for as though I were royalty. Yet be- 
 lieve me, my friend, every act of courtesy and gener- 
 osity which I receive in these moments, bites into my 
 heart. Farewell ! " 
 
 Dominey found a taxicab in Pall Mall and drove 
 back to Berkeley Square. He found Rosamund with
 
 I 
 
 292 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 a little troop of dogs, just entering the gardens, and 
 crossed to her side. 
 
 " Dear," he asked, taking her arm, " would you 
 mind very much coming down to Norfolk for a few 
 days?" ^ 
 
 " With you ? " she asked quickly. 
 
 " Yes ! I want to be in retreat for a short time. 
 There are one or two things I must settle before I 
 take up some fresh work." 
 
 " I should love it," she declared enthusiastically. 
 *' London is getting so hot, and every one is so ex- 
 cited." 
 
 " I shall order the touring car at three o'clock," 
 Dominey told her. " We shall get home about nine. 
 Parkins and your maid can go down by train. Does 
 that suit you? " 
 
 " Delightfully ! " 
 
 He took her arm and they paced slowly along the 
 hot walk. 
 
 " Rosamund dear," he said, " the time has come 
 which many people have been dreading. We are at 
 war." 
 
 " I know," she murmured. 
 
 " You and I have had quite a happy time together, 
 these last few months," he went on, " even though 
 there is still that black cloud between us. I have 
 tried to treat you as kindly and tenderly as though 
 I were really your husband and you were indeed my 
 wife." 
 
 "You're not going away?" she cried, startled. 
 " I couldn't bear that ! No one could ever be so 
 swec^ as you have been to me."
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 293 
 
 " Dear," he said, " I want you to think — of your 
 husband — of Everard. He was a soldier once for 
 a short time, was he not? What do you think he 
 would have done now that this terrible war has 
 come? " 
 
 " He would have done what you will do," she an- 
 swered, with the slightest possible tremor in her tone. 
 " He would have become a soldier again, he would 
 have fought for his country." 
 
 " And so must I — fight for my country," he de- 
 clared. " That is wh}' I must leave y^ou for an hour 
 now while I make some calls. I shall be back to 
 luncheon. Directly afterwards we must start. I 
 have many things to arrange first, though. Life is 
 not going to be very easy for the next few daj's." 
 
 She held on to his arm. She seemed curiously re- 
 luctant to let him go. 
 
 " Everard," she said, " when we are at Dominey 
 shall I be able to see Doctor Harrison? " 
 
 " Of course," he assured her. 
 
 " There is something I want to sa}- to him," she 
 confided, " something I want to ask you, too. Are 
 you the same person, Everard, when you are in town 
 as when you are in the country ? " 
 
 He was a little taken aback at her question — 
 asked, too, with such almost plaintive seriousness. 
 The very aberration it suggested seemed altogether 
 denied by her appearance. She was wearing a dress 
 of black and white muslin, a large black hat, Paris 
 shoes. Her stockings, her gloves, all the trifling de- 
 tails of her toilette, were carefully chosen, and her 
 clothes themselves gracefully and naturally worn.
 
 294 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 Socially, too, she had been amazingly successful. 
 Only the week before, Caroline had come to him with 
 a little shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 " I have been trj'ing to be kind to Rosamund," she 
 said, " and finding out instead how unnecessary it is. 
 She is quite the most popular of the younger mar- 
 ried women in our set. You don't deserve such luck, 
 Everard." 
 
 " You know the proverb about the old roue," he 
 had replied. 
 
 His mind had wandered for a moment. He real- 
 ised Rosamund's question with a little start. 
 
 " The same person, dear.'' " he repeated. " I think 
 so. Don't I seem so to you.^ " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I am not sure," she answered, a little mysteri- 
 ously. " You see, in the country I still remember 
 sometimes that awful night when I so nearly lost my 
 reason. I have never seen you look as you looked 
 that night." 
 
 " You would rather not go back, perhaps .'' " 
 
 " That is the strange part of it," she replied. 
 " There is nothing in the world I want so much to do. 
 There's an empty taxi, dear," she added, as they 
 reached the gate. " I shall go in and tell Justine 
 about the packing."
 
 CHAPTER XX\^II 
 
 Within the course of the next few days, a strange 
 rumour spread through Dominey and the district, — 
 horn the farm labourer to the farmer, from the 
 school children to their homes, from the village post- 
 office to the neighbouring hamlets. A gang of wood- 
 men from a neighbouring count^^ with an engine and 
 all the machiner}- of their craft, had started to work 
 razing to the ground everything in the shape of tree 
 or shrub at the north end of the Black Wood. The 
 matter of the war was promptly forgotten. Be- 
 fore the second da}', every man, woman and child in 
 the place had paid an awed visit to the outskirts of 
 the wood, had listened to the whirr of machinery, had 
 gazed upon the great bridge of planks leading into 
 the wood, had peered, in the hope of some strange 
 discovery, into the tents of the men who were camp- 
 ing out. The men themselves were not communica- 
 tive, and the first time the foreman had been known 
 to open his mouth was when Dominey walked down 
 to discuss progress, on the morning after his arrival. 
 
 " It's a dirt>^ bit of work, sir," he confided. " I 
 don't know as I ever came across a bit of woodland 
 as was so utterl}', hopelessh^ rotten. Why, the wood 
 crumbles when you touch it, and the men have to be 
 within reach of one another the whole of the time.
 
 296 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 though we've a matter of five hundred planks down 
 there." 
 
 " Come across anything unusual yet? " 
 
 " We ain't come across anything that isn't unusual 
 so far, sir. My men are all wearing extra leggings 
 to keep them from being bitten by them adders — as 
 long as my arm, some on 'em. And there's fungus 
 there which, when you touch it, sends out a smell 
 enough to make a strong man faint. We killed a 
 cat the first day, as big and as fierce as a young 
 tigress. It's a queer job, sir." 
 
 "How long will it take?" 
 
 " Matter of three weeks, sir, and when we've got 
 the timber out 3^ou'll be well advised to burn it. It's 
 not worth a snap of the fingers. — Begging your 
 pardon, sir," the man went on, " the old lady in the 
 distance there hangs about the whole of the time. 
 Some of my men are half scared of her." 
 
 Dominey swung around. On a mound a little dis- 
 tance away in the park, Rachael Unthank was stand- 
 ing. In her rusty black clothes, unrelieved by any 
 trace of colour, her white cheeks and strange eyes, 
 even in the morning light she was a repellent figure. 
 Dominej'^ strolled across to her. 
 
 " You see, Mrs. Unthank," he began — 
 
 She interrupted him. Her skinny hand was 
 stretched out towards the wood. 
 
 " What are those men doing. Sir Everard Dom- 
 iney ? " she demanded. " What is your will with the 
 wood? " 
 
 " I am carrying out a determination I came to in 
 the winter," Dominey replied. " Those men are go-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 297 
 
 ing to cut and hew their way from one end of the 
 Black Wood to the other, until not a tree or a bush 
 remains upright. As they cut, they burn. After- 
 wards, I shall have it drained. We may live to see 
 a field of corn there, Mrs. Unthank." 
 
 "You will dare to do this? " she asked hoarsely. 
 
 " Will you dare to tell me why I should not, Mrs. 
 Unthank.?"" 
 
 She relapsed into silence, and Dominey passed on. 
 But that night, as Rosamund and he were lingering 
 over their dessert, enjo^'ing the strange quiet and the 
 wonderful breeze which crept in at the open window, 
 Parkins announced a visitor. 
 
 " Mrs. Unthank is in the library, sir," he an- 
 nounced. " She would be glad if you could spare her 
 five minutes." 
 
 Rosamund shivered slightly but nodded as Dominey 
 glanced towards her enquiringly. 
 
 " Don't let me see her, please," she begged. " You 
 must go, of course. — Everard ! " 
 
 "Yes, dear?" 
 
 " I know what you are doing out there, although 
 you have never said a word to me about it," she con- 
 tinued, with an odd little note of passion in her tone. 
 " Don't let her persuade you to stop. Let them cut 
 and burn and hew till there isn't room for a mouse to 
 hide. You promise? " 
 
 " I promise," he answered. 
 
 Mrs. Unthank was making every effort to keep un- 
 der control her fierce discomposure. She rose as 
 Dominey entered the room and dropped an old-fash- 
 ioned curtsey.
 
 298 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Unthank," he enquired, " what can I 
 do for you? " 
 
 " It's about the wood again, sir," she confessed. 
 " I can't bear it. All night long I seem to hear those 
 axes, and the calling of the men." 
 
 "What is your objection, Mrs. Unthank, to the 
 destruction of the Black Wood.'' " Dominey asked 
 bluntly. " It is nothing more nor less than a noisome 
 pest-hole. Its very presence there, after all that she 
 has suffered, is a menace to Lad}'^ Dominey's nerves, 
 I am determined to sweep it from the face of the 
 earth." 
 
 The forced respect was already beginning to dis- 
 appear from her manner. 
 
 " There's evil will come to you if you do. Sir 
 Everard," she declared doggedlj'. 
 
 " Plenty of evil has come to me from that wood 
 as it is," he reminded her. 
 
 " You mean to disturb the spirit of him whose 
 body you threw there.'' " she persisted. 
 
 Dominey looked at her calmly. Some sort of evil 
 seem.ed to have lit in her face. Her lips had shrunk 
 apart, showing her yellow teeth. The fire in her 
 narrowed eyes was the fire of hatred. 
 
 " I am no murderer, Mrs. Unthank," he said. 
 " Your son stole out from the shadow of that wood, 
 attacked me in a cowardly manner, and we fought. 
 He was mad when he attacked me, he fought like a 
 madman, and, notwithstanding my superior strength, 
 I was glad to get away alive. I never touched his 
 body. It laj^ where he fell. If he crept into the 
 wood and died there, then his death was not at my 
 
 i
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 299 
 
 door. He sought for my life as I never sought for 
 his." 
 
 " You'd done him wrong," the woman muttered. 
 
 " That again is false. His passion for Lady Dom- 
 iney was uninvited and unreciprocated. Her only 
 feeling concerning him was one of fear ; that the 
 whole countryside knows. Your son was a lonely, a 
 morose and an ill-living man, Mrs. Unthank. If 
 cither of us had murder in our hearts, it was he, not 
 I. And as for 3'ou," Dominey went on, after a mo- 
 ment's pause, " I think that you have had your re- 
 venge, Mrs. Unthank. It was you who nursed my 
 wife into insanity. It was you who fed her witli 
 the horror of your son's so-called spirit. I think 
 that if I had stayed away another two years. Lady 
 Dominey would have been in a mad-house to-day." 
 
 " I would to Heaven," the woman cried, *' that 
 you'd rotted to death in Africa ! " 
 
 " You carry \^our evil feelings far, Mrs. Unthank," 
 he replied. " Take my advice. Give up this foolish 
 idea that the Black Wood is still the home of your 
 son's spirit. Go and live on your annuity in another 
 part of the country and forget." 
 
 He moved across the room to throw open a window. 
 Her eyes followed him wonderingly. 
 
 " I have heard a rumour," she said slowly ; " there 
 has been a word spoken here and there about you. 
 I've had my doubts sometimes. I have them again 
 every time you speak. Are you really Everard Dom- 
 iney 
 
 ? >« 
 
 He swung around and faced her. 
 "Who else.?"
 
 300 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " There's one," she went on, " has never believed 
 it, and that's her ladyship. I've heard strange talk 
 from the people who've come under your masterful 
 ways. You're a harder man than the Everard Dom- 
 iney I remember. What if you should be an im- 
 postor.'^ " 
 
 " You have only to prove that, Mrs. Unthank," 
 Dominey replied, " and a portion, at any rate, of 
 the Black Wood may remain standing. You will 
 find it a little difficult, though. — You must excuse 
 my ringing the bell. I see no object in asking you 
 to remain longer." 
 
 She rose unwillingly to her feet. Her manner was 
 sullen and unyielding. 
 
 " You are asking for the evil things," she warned 
 him, 
 
 " Be assured," Dominey answered, " that if they 
 come I shall know how to deal with them." 
 
 Dominey found Rosamund and Doctor Harrison, 
 who had walked over from the village, lingering on 
 the terrace. He welcomed the latter warmly. 
 
 " You are a godsend. Doctor," he declared. " I 
 have been obliged to leave my port untasted for want 
 of a companion. You will excuse us for a moment, 
 Rosamund.^ " 
 
 She nodded pleasantly, and the doctor followed his 
 host into the dining-room and took his seat at the 
 table where the dessert still remained. 
 
 " Old woman threatening mischief, eh.'' " the latter 
 asked, with a keen glance from under his shaggy 
 grey eyebrsws.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 301 
 
 "I think she means it," Dominey replied, as he 
 filled his guest's glass. " Personally," he went on, 
 after a moment's pause, " the present situation is 
 beginning to confirm an old suspicion of mine. I 
 am a hard and fast materialist, you know, Doctor, 
 in certain matters, and I have not the slightest faith 
 in the vindictive mother, terrified to death lest the 
 razing of a wood of unwholesome character should 
 turn out into the cold world the spirit of her angel 
 son." 
 
 " What do you believe? " the doctor asked bluntly. 
 
 " I would rather not tell you at the present mo- 
 ment," Dominey answered. " It would sound too 
 fantastic." 
 
 " Your note this afternoon spoke of urgency," 
 the doctor observed. 
 
 " The matter is urgent. I want you to do me a 
 great favour — to remain here all night." 
 
 "You are expecting something to happen?" 
 
 " I wish, at any rate, to be prejDared." 
 
 " I'll stay, with pleasure," the doctor promised. 
 "You can lend me some paraphernalia, I suppose? 
 And give me a shake-down somewhere near 
 Lady Dominey's. By-the-by," he began, and hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 " I have followed your advice, or rather your 
 orders," Dominey interrupted, a little harshly. " It 
 has not always been easy, especially in London, where 
 Rosamund is away from these associations. — I am 
 hoping great things from what may happen to-night, 
 or very soon." 
 
 The doctor nodded sympathetically.
 
 302 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if you weren't on the right 
 track," he declared. 
 
 Rosamund came in through the window to them 
 and seated herself by Dominey's side. 
 
 " Why are you two whispering like conspirators? " 
 she demanded. 
 
 " Because we are conspirators," he replied lightly. 
 " I have persuaded Doctor Harrison to stay the 
 night. He would like a room in our wing. Will 
 you let the maids know, dear.'' " 
 
 She nodded thoughtfully. 
 
 " Of course ! There are several rooms quite ready. 
 Mrs. Midgeley thought that we might be bringing 
 down some guests. I am quite sure that we can make 
 Doctor Harrison comfortable." 
 
 " No doubt about that, Lady Dominey," the doc- 
 tor declared. " Let me be as near to your apart- 
 ments as possible." 
 
 There was a shade of anxiety in her face. 
 
 " You think that to-night something will happen.'' " 
 she asked. 
 
 " To-night, or one night very soon," Dominey as- 
 sented. " It is just as well for you to be prepared. 
 You will not be afraid, dear.'' You will have the 
 doctor on one side of you and me on the other." 
 
 " I am only afraid of one thing," she answered a 
 little enigmatically. " I have been so happy lately." 
 
 Dominey, changed into ordinary morning clothes, 
 with a thick cord tied round his body, a revolver in 
 his pocket, and a loaded stick in his hand, spent the 
 remainder of that night and part of the early morn-
 
 V 
 
 Into the open there came a dark shape, the irregularity of its 
 movements swiftly explained. Page 303.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 303 
 
 ing concealed behind a great clump of rhododendrons, 
 his eyes fixed upon the shadowy stretch of park 
 which lay between the house and the Black Wood. 
 The night was moonless but clear, and when his eyes 
 were once accustomed to the pale but sombre twi- 
 light, the whole landscape and the moving objects 
 upon it were dimly visible. The habits of his years 
 of bush life seemed instinctively, in those few hours 
 of waiting, to have reestablished themselves. Every 
 sense was strained and active ; every night sound — 
 of which the hooting of some owls, disturbed from 
 their lurking place in the Black Wood, w^as predom- 
 inant — heard and accounted for. And then, just 
 as he had glanced at his watch and found that it 
 was close upon two o'clock, came the first real inti- 
 mation that something was likely to happen. Mov- 
 ing across the park towards him he heard the sound 
 of a faint patter, curious and irregular in rhythm, 
 which came from behind a range of low hillocks. He 
 raised himself on his hands and knees to watch. His 
 eyes w^ere fastened upon a certain spot, — a stretch 
 of the open park between himself and the hillocks. 
 The patter ceased and began again. Into the open 
 there came a dark shape, the irregularity of its 
 movements swiftly explained. It moved at first upon 
 all fours, then on two legs, then on all fours again. 
 It crept nearer and nearer, and Dominey, as he 
 watched, laid aside his stick. It reached the terrace, 
 paused underneath Rosamund's window, now barely 
 half a dozen yards from where he was crouching. 
 Deliberately he waited, waited for what he knew 
 must soon come. Then the deep silence of the breath-
 
 304 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 less night was broken by that familiar, unearthly 
 scream. Dominey waited till even its echoes had 
 died away. Then he ran a few steps, bent double, 
 and stretched out his hands. Once more, for the 
 last time, that devil's cry broke the deep stillness of 
 the August morning, throbbing a little as though with 
 a new fear, dying away as though the fingers which 
 crushed it back down the straining throat had indeed 
 crushed with it the last flicker of some unholy life. 
 
 When Doctor Harrison made his hurried appear- 
 ance, a few moments later, he found Dominey seated 
 upon the terrace, furiously smoking a cigarette. On 
 the ground, a few yards away, lay something black 
 and motionless. 
 
 " What is it? " the doctor gasped. 
 
 For the first time Dominey showed some signs of 
 a lack of self-control. His voice was choked and un- 
 even. 
 
 " Go and look at it, Doctor," he said. " It's tied 
 up, hand and foot. You can see where the spirit of 
 Roger Unthank has hidden itself." 
 
 " Bosh ! " the doctor answered, with grim contempt. 
 " It's Roger Unthank himself. The beast ! " 
 
 A little stream of servants came running out. 
 Dominey gave a few orders quickly. 
 
 " Ring up the garage," he directed, " and I shall 
 want one of the men to go into Norwich to the hos- 
 pital. Doctor, will you go up and see Lady Dom- 
 iney ? " 
 
 The habits of a lifetime broke down : Parkins, the 
 immaculate, the silent, the perfect automaton, asked 
 an eager question.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 305 
 
 "What is it, sir?" 
 
 There was the sound of a window opening over- 
 head. At that moment Parkins would not have asked 
 in vain for an annuity. Dominey glanced at the little 
 semicircle of servants and raised his voice. 
 
 " It is the end, I trust, of these foolish supersti- 
 tions about Roger Unthank's ghost. There lies 
 Roger Unthank, half beast, half man. For some 
 reason or other — some lunatic's reason, of course 
 — he has chosen to hide himself in the Black Wood 
 all these years. His mother, I presume, has been his 
 accomplice and taken him food. He is still alive but 
 in a disgusting state." 
 
 There was a little awed murmur. Dominey's voice 
 had become quite matter of fact. 
 
 " I suppose," he continued, " his first idea was to 
 revenge himself upon us and this household, by whom 
 he imagined himself badly treated. The man, how- 
 ever, was half a madman when he came to the neigh- 
 bourhood and has behaved like one ever since. — 
 Johnson," Dominey continued, singling out a sturdy 
 footman with sound common sense, *' get ready to 
 take this creature into Norwich Hospital. Say that 
 if I do not come in during the day, a letter of ex- 
 planation will follow from me. The rest of you, 
 with the exception of Parkins, please go to bed." 
 
 With little exclamations of wonder they began to 
 disperse. Then one of them paused and pointed 
 across the park. Moving with incredible swiftness 
 came the gaunt, black figure of Rachael Unthank, 
 swaying sometimes on her feet, yet in their midst 
 before they could realise it. She staggered to the
 
 3o6 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 prostrate body and threw herself upon her knees. 
 Her hands rested upon the unseen face, her eyes 
 glared across at Dominey. 
 
 " So you've got him at last ! " she gasped. 
 
 " Mrs. Unthank," Dominey said sternly, " 3'^ou are 
 in time to accompany your son to the hospital at 
 Norwich. The car will be here in two minutes. I 
 have nothing to say to you. Your own conscience 
 should be sufficient punishment for keeping that poor 
 creature alive in such a fashion and ministering dur- 
 ing my absence to his accursed desires for vengeance." 
 
 " He would have died if I hadn't brought him food," 
 she muttered. " I have wept all the tears a woman's 
 broken heart could wring out, beseeching him to come 
 back to mc." 
 
 " Yet," Dominej'^ insisted, " you shared his foul 
 plot for vengeance against a harmless woman. You 
 let him come and make his ghoulish noises, night by 
 night, under these windows, without a word of re- 
 monstrance. You knew very well what their accursed 
 object was — you, with a delicate woman in 3'our 
 charge who trusted you. You are an evil pair, but 
 of the two 3'ou are worse than your half-witted 
 son." 
 
 The woman made no reply. She was still on her 
 knees, bending over the prostrate figure, from whose 
 lips now came a faint moaning. Then the lights of 
 the car flashed out as it left the garage, passed 
 through the iron gates and drew up a few yards away. 
 
 " Help him in," Dominey ordered. *' You can 
 loosen his cords, Johnson, as soon as you have started. 
 He has very little strength. Tell them at the hos-
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 307 
 
 pital I shall probably be there during the daj', or to- 
 morrow'." 
 
 With a little shiver the two men stooped to their 
 task. Their prisoner muttered to himself all the 
 time, but made no resistance. Rachael Unthank, as 
 she stepped in to take her place by his side, turned 
 once more to Dominey. She was a broken woman. 
 
 " You're rid of us," she sobbed, " perhaps for- 
 ever. — You've said harsh things of both of us. 
 Roger isn't always — so bad. Sometimes he's more 
 gentle than at others. You'd have thought then that 
 he was just a baby, living there for love of the wind 
 and the trees and the birds. If he comes to — " 
 
 Her voice broke. Dominey's reply was swift and 
 not unkind. He pointed to the window above. 
 
 " If Lady Dominey recovers, you and your son 
 are forgiven. If she never recovers, I wish you both 
 the blackest corner of hell." 
 
 The car drove off. Doctor Harrison met Dom- 
 iney on the threshold as he turned towards the house. 
 
 " Her ladyship is unconscious now," he announced. 
 " Perhaps that is a good sign. I never liked that 
 unnatural calm. She'll be unconscious, I think, for 
 a great many hours. For God's sake, come and get 
 a whisky and soda and give me one ! " 
 
 The early morning sunshine lay upon the park 
 when the two men at last separated. They stood 
 for a moment looking out. From the Black Wood 
 came the whirr of a saw. The little troop of men 
 had left their tents. The crash of a fallen tree her- 
 alded their morning's work.
 
 308 ItiiS- GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 "You are still going on with that?" the doctor 
 asked. 
 
 " To the very last stump of a tree, to the last bush, 
 to the last cluster of weeds," Dominey replied, with 
 a sudden passion in his tone. " I will have that place 
 razed to the bare level of the earth, and I will have 
 its poisonous swamps sucked dry. I have hated that 
 foul spot," he went on, " ever since I realised what 
 suffering it meant to her. My reign here may not 
 be long, Doctor — I have my own tragedy to deal 
 with — but those who come after me will never feel 
 the blight of that accursed place." 
 
 The doctor grunted. His inner thoughts he kept 
 to himself. 
 
 " Maybe you're right," he conceded.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 The heat of a sulphurous afternoon — a curious 
 parallel in its presage of coming storm to the fast- 
 approaching crisis in Domincy's own affairs — had 
 driven Dominey from his study out on to the terrace. 
 In a chair by his side lounged Eddy Pelham, im- 
 maculate in a suit of white flannels. It was the fifth 
 day since the mystery of the Black Wood had been 
 solved. 
 
 " Ripping, old chap, of you to have me down 
 here," the young man remarked amiably, his hand 
 stretching out to a tumbler which stood b}' his side. 
 " The country, when you can get ice, is a paradise 
 this weather, especially when London's so full of 
 ghastly rumours and all that sort of thing, eh.'' 
 What's the latest news of her ladyship? " 
 
 " Still unconscious," Dominey replied. " The doc- 
 tors, however, seem perfectly satisfied. Everythin,g 
 depends on her waking moments." 
 
 The young man abandoned the subject with a mur- 
 mur of hopeful sympathy. His eyes were fixed upon 
 a little cloud of dust in the distance. 
 
 " Expecting visitors to-day? " he asked. 
 
 " Should not be surprised," was the somewhat la- 
 conic answer. 
 
 The young man stood up, yawned and stretched 
 himself.
 
 310 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " I'll make myself scarce," he said. " Jove ! " he 
 added approvingly, lingering for a moment. " Jolly 
 well cut, the tunic of your uniform, Dominey ! If a 
 country in peril ever decides to waive the matter of 
 my indifferent physique and send me out to the rescue, 
 I shall go to 3'our man." 
 
 Dominey smiled. 
 
 " Mine is only the local Yeomanry rig-out," he 
 replied. " The3^ will nab you for the Guards ! " 
 
 Dominey stepped back through the open windows 
 into his study as Pelham strolled off. He was seated 
 at his desk, poring over some letters, when a few 
 minutes later Seaman was ushered into the room. 
 For a single moment his muscles tightened, his frame 
 became tense. Then he realised his visitor's out- 
 stretched hands of welcome and he relaxed. Seaman 
 was perspiring, vociferous and excited. 
 
 " At last ! " he exclaimed. " Donner und ! — My 
 God, Dominey, what is this.'' " 
 
 " Thirteen years ago," Dominey explained, " I re- 
 signed a commission in the Norfolk Yeomanr3^ That 
 little matter, however, has been adjusted. At a crisis 
 like this — " 
 
 " M}' friend, you are wonderful ! " Seaman inter- 
 rupted solemnly. " You are a man after my own 
 heart, you are thorough, you leave nothing undone. 
 That is why," he added, lowering his voice a little, 
 " we are the greatest race in the world. Drink be- 
 fore everything, my friend," he went on, " drink I 
 must have. What a day ! The very clouds that hide 
 the sun are full of sulphurous heat." 
 
 Dominey rang the bell, ordered hock and seltzer
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 311 
 
 and ice. Seaman drank and threw himself into an 
 easy-chair. 
 
 " There is no fear of your being called out of the 
 country because of that, I hope?" he asked a little 
 anxiously, nodding his head towards his companion's 
 uniform. 
 
 " Not at present," Dominey answered. " I am a 
 trifle over age to go with the first batch or two. 
 Where have you been? " 
 
 Seaman hitched his chair a little nearer. 
 
 " In Ireland," he confided. " Sorry to desert you 
 as I did, but you do not begin to count for us just 
 yet. There was just a faint doubt as to what they 
 were going to do about internment. That is why I 
 had to get the Irish trip off my mind." 
 
 " What has been decided? " 
 
 " The Government has the matter under considera- 
 tion," Seaman replied, with a chuckle. " I can cer- 
 tainly give myself six months before I need to slip 
 off. Now tell me, why do I find you down here? " 
 
 " After Terniloff left," Dominey explained, " I fell 
 I Avanted to get away. I have been asked to start 
 some recruiting work down here." 
 
 " Terniloff — left his little volume with you? " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 "Where is it?" 
 
 " Safe," Dominey replied. 
 
 Seaman mopped his forehead. 
 
 " It needs to be," he muttered. " I have orders to 
 see it destroyed. We can talk of that presently. 
 Sometimes, when I am away from you, I tremble. 
 It may sound foolish, but you have in your posses-
 
 312 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 sion just the two things — that map and Von Terni- 
 lofF's memoirs — which would wreck our propaganda 
 in every country of the world." 
 
 " Both are safe," Dominey assured him. " By the 
 by, my friend," he went on, " do you know that you 
 yourself are forgetting your usual caution.'' " 
 
 " In what respect.'' " Seaman demanded quickly. 
 
 " As 3^ou stooped to sit down just now, I distinctly 
 saw the shape of your revolver in your hip pocket. 
 You know as well as I do that with your name and 
 the fact that you are only a naturalised Englishman, 
 it is inexcusably foolish to be carrying firearms about 
 just now." 
 
 Seaman thrust his hand into his pocket and threw 
 the revolver upon the table. 
 
 " You are quite right," he acknowledged. " Take 
 care of it for me. I took it with me to Ireland, be- 
 cause one never knov^'s what may happen in that 
 amazing country." 
 
 Dominey swept it carelessly into the drawer of the 
 desk at w^hich he was sitting. 
 
 " Our w^eapons, from now on," Seaman continued, 
 " must be weapons of guile and craft. You and I 
 will have, alas ! to see less of one another, Dominey. 
 In many ways it is unfortunate that we have not 
 been able to keep England out of this for a few 
 more months. However, the situation must be dealt 
 with as it exists. So far as you are concerned, you 
 have practically secured yourself against suspicion. 
 You will hold a brilliant and isolated place amongst 
 those who are serving the great War Lord, When 
 I do approach you, it will be for sympathy and assist- 
 
 i
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 313 
 
 ance against the suspicions of these far-seeing Eng- 
 Hshmen ! " 
 
 Dominej' nodded. 
 
 " You will stay the night? " he asked. 
 
 " If I may," Seaman assented. " It is the last 
 time for many months when it will be wise for us to 
 meet on such intimate terms. Perhaps our dear 
 friend Parkins will take vinous note of the occa- 
 sion." 
 
 " In other words," Dominey said, " you propose 
 that we shall drink the Dominey cabinet hock and the 
 Dominey port to the glory of our countr3^" 
 
 " To the glory of our countr}'," Seaman echoed. 
 " So be it, my friend. — Listen." 
 
 A car had passed along the avenue in front of the 
 house. There was the sound of voices in the hall, 
 a knock at the door, the rustle of a woman's clothes. 
 Parkins, a little disturbed, announced the arrivals. 
 
 " The Princess of Eiderstrom and — a gentleman. 
 The Princess said that her errand with you was 
 urgent, sir," he added, turning apologetically to- 
 wards his master. 
 
 The Princess was already in the room, and fol- 
 lowing her a short man in a suit of sombre black, 
 wearing a white tie, and carrying a black bowler 
 hat. He blinked across the room through his thick 
 glasses, and Dominey knew that the end had come. 
 The door was closed behind them. The Princess 
 came a little further into the room. Her hand was 
 extended towards Domine}', but not in greeting. 
 Her white finger pointed straight at him. She turned 
 to her companion.
 
 314 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " Which is that, Doctor Schmidt? " she demanded. 
 
 " The Englishman, by God ! " Schmidt answered. 
 
 The silence which reigned for several seconds was 
 intense and profound. The coolest of all four was 
 perhaps Domine3\ The Princess was pale with a 
 passion which seemed to sob behind her words, 
 
 " Everard Domine}^," she cried, " what have you 
 done with my lover.'' What have you done with Leo- 
 pold von Ragastcin? " 
 
 " He met with the fate," Dominey replied, *' which 
 he had prepared for me. We fought and I con- 
 quered." 
 
 "You killed him?" 
 
 " I killed him," Dominey echoed. " It was a mat- 
 ter of necessity. His body sleeps on the bed of the 
 Blue River." 
 
 " And your life here has been a lie ! " 
 
 " On the contrary, it has been the truth," Dom- 
 ine}^ objected. " I assured you at the Carlton, when 
 you first spoke to me, and I have assured you a dozen 
 times since, that I was Everard Dominey. That is 
 my name. That is who I am." 
 
 Seaman's voice seemed to come from a long way 
 off. For the moment the man had neither courage 
 nor initiative. He seemed as though he had received 
 some sort of stroke. His mind was travelling back- 
 wards. 
 
 " You came to me at Cape Town," he muttered ; 
 " you had all Von Ragastein's letters, you knew his 
 history, you had the Imperial mandate." 
 
 " Von Ragastein and I exchanged the most inti- 
 mate confidences in his camp," Dominey said, " as
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 315 
 
 Doctor Schmidt there knows. I told him my his- 
 tory, and he told me his. The letters and papers I 
 took from him." 
 
 Schmidt had covered his face with his hands for 
 a moment. His shoulders were heaving. 
 
 " My beloved chief ! " he sobbed. " My dear de- 
 voted master I Killed by that drunken English- 
 man ! " 
 
 " Not so drunk as you fancied him," Dominey said 
 coolly, " not so far gone in his course of dissipation 
 but that he was able to pull himself up when the 
 great incentive came." 
 
 The Princess looked from one to the other of the 
 two men. Seaman had still the appearance of a 
 man struggling to extricate himself from some sort 
 of nightmare. 
 
 " My first and only suspicion," he faltered, " was 
 that night when Wolff disappeared ! " 
 
 " Wolff's coming was rather a tragedy," Dominey 
 admitted. " Fortunately, I had a secret service man 
 in the house who was able to dispose of him." 
 
 " It was 3'ou who planned his disappearance.? " 
 Seaman gasped. 
 
 " Naturally," Dominey replied. " He knew the 
 truth and was trying all the time to communicate 
 with you." 
 
 " And the money .'' " Seaman continued, blinking 
 rapidly. " One hundred thousand pounds, and 
 more.'' " 
 
 " I understood that was a gift," Dominey replied. 
 " If the German Secret Service, however, cares tp 
 formulate a claim and sue me — "
 
 3i6 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 The Princess suddenly Interrupted. Her eyes 
 seemed on fire, 
 
 " What are you, you two ? " she cried, stretching 
 out her hands towards Schmidt and Seaman. " Are 
 you lumps of earth — clods — creatures without 
 courage and intelligence .? You can let him stand 
 there — the Englishman who has murdered my lover, 
 who has befooled you.'* You let him stand there and 
 mock you, and you do and say nothing 1 Is his life 
 a sacred thing? Has he none of your secrets in his 
 charge ? " 
 
 " The great God above us I " Seaman groaned, with 
 a sudden white horror in. his face. " He has the 
 Prince's memoirs ? He has the Kaiser's map ! " 
 
 " On the contrary," Dominey replied, " both are 
 deposited at the Foreign Office. We hope to find 
 them very useful a little later on." 
 
 Seaman sprang forward like a tiger and went down 
 in a heap as he almost threw himself upon Dominey's 
 out-flung fist. Schmidt came stealing across the 
 room, and from underneath his cuff something 
 gleamed. 
 
 " You are two to one I " the Princess cried pas- 
 sionately, as both assailants hesitated. " I would to 
 God that I had a weapon, or that I were a man ! " 
 
 " My dear Princess," a good-humoured voice re- 
 marked from the window, " four to two the other way, 
 I think, what.?" 
 
 Eddy Pelham, his hands in his pockets, but a very 
 alert gleam in his usually vacuous face, stood in the 
 windowed doorway. From behind him, two exceed- 
 ingly formidable-looking men slipped into the room.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 317 
 
 There was no fight, not even a struggle. Seaman, 
 who had never recovered from the shock of his sur- 
 prise, and was now completely unnerved, was hand- 
 cuffed in a moment, and Schmidt disarmed. The lat- 
 ter was the first to break the curious silence. 
 
 " What have I done ? " he demanded. " Why am 
 I treated like this?" 
 
 " Doctor Schmidt? " Eddy asked pleasantly. 
 
 " That is my name, sir," was the fierce reply. " I 
 have just landed from East Africa. We knew noth- 
 ing of the war when we started. I came to expose 
 that man. He is an impostor — a murderer! He 
 has killed a German nobleman." 
 
 " He has committed Use majeste! " Seaman gasped. 
 *' He has deceived the Kaiser ! He has dared to sit 
 in his presence as the Baron von Ragastein ! " 
 
 The young man in flannels glanced across at Dom- 
 iney and smiled. 
 
 *' I say, you two don't mean to be funny but you 
 are," he declared. " First of all, there's Doctor 
 Schmidt accuses Sir Everard here of being an im- 
 postor because he assumed his own name ; accuses 
 him of murdering a man who had planned in cold 
 blood — 3' ou were in that, by the by, Schmidt — to 
 kill him ; and then there's our friend here, the secre- 
 tary of the society for propagating better relations 
 between the business men of England and Germany, 
 complaining because Sir Everard carried through in 
 Germany, for England, exactly what he believed the 
 Baron von Ragastein was carrying out here — : for 
 Germany. You're a curious, thick-headed race, you 
 Germans."
 
 3i8 THE GREAT IMPERSOl^ATION 
 
 " I demand again," Schmidt shouted, " to know 
 by what right I am treated as a criminal? " 
 
 " Because you are one," Eddy answered coolly. 
 " You and Von Ragastein together planned the mur- 
 der of Sir Everard Dominey in East Africa, and I 
 caught you creeping across the floor just now with 
 a knife in your hand. That'll do for you. Any 
 questions to ask. Seaman? " 
 
 " None," was the surly reply. 
 
 " You are well-advised," the young man remarked 
 oooUy. " Within the last two days, your house in 
 Forest Hill and your offices in London Wall have 
 been searched." 
 
 " You have said enough," Seaman declared. 
 *' Fate has gone against me. I thank God that our 
 master has abler servants than I and the strength 
 to crush this island of popinjays and fools ! " 
 
 " Popinjays seems severe," Eddy murmured, in a 
 hurt tone. " However, to get on with this little mat- 
 ter," he added, turning to one of his two subordi- 
 nates. " You will find a military car outside. Take 
 these men over to the guardroom at the Norwich 
 Barracks. I have arranged for an escort to see 
 them to town. Tell the colonel I'll be over later in 
 the day." 
 
 The Princess rose from the chair into which she 
 had subsided a few moments before. Dominey turned 
 towards her. 
 
 " Princess," he said, " there can be little conversa- 
 tion between us. Yet I shall ask you to remember 
 this. Von Ragastein planned my death in cold blood. 
 I could have slain him as an assassin, without the
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 319 
 
 slightest risk, but I preferred to meet him face to 
 face with the truth upon my lips. It was his life 
 or mine. I fought for my country's sake, as he 
 did for his." 
 
 The Princess looked at him with glittering eyes. 
 
 " I shall hate you to the end of my days," she de- 
 clared, " because you have killed the thing I love, 
 but although I am a woman, I know justice. You 
 were chivalrous towards me. You treated Leopold 
 perhaps better than he would have treated 3'ou. I 
 pray that I shall never see your face again. Be so 
 good as to suffer me to leave this house at once, and 
 unattended." 
 
 Dominey threw open the windows which led on to 
 the terrace and stood on one side. She passed by 
 without a glance at him and disappeared. Eddy 
 came strolling along the terrace a few moments later. 
 
 " Nice old ducks, those two, dear heart," he con- 
 fided. " Seaman has just offered Forsyth, my burly 
 ruffian in the blue serge suit, a hundred pounds to 
 shoot him on the pretence that he was escaping." 
 
 " And what about Schmidt.'' " 
 
 " Insisted on his rights as an officer and demanded 
 the front seat and a cigar before the car started! 
 A pretty job, Dominey, and neatly cleaned up." 
 
 Dominey was watching the dust from the two cars 
 which were disappearing down the avenue. 
 
 " Tell me, Eddy," he asked, " there's one thing I 
 have always been curious about. How did you man- 
 age to keep that fellow Wolff when there wasn't a 
 war on, and he wasn't breaking the law.*^ " 
 
 The young man grinned.
 
 320 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 " We had to stretch a point there, old dear," he 
 admitted. "Plans of a fortress, eh?" 
 
 " Do you mean to say that he had plans of a 
 fortress upon him? " Dominey asked. 
 
 " Picture post-card of Norwich Castle," the young 
 man confided, " but keep it dark. Can I have a 
 drink before I get the little car going? " 
 
 The turmoil of the day was over, and Dominey, 
 after one silent but passionate outburst of thankful- 
 ness at the passing from his life of this unnatural 
 restraint, found all his thoughts absorbed by the 
 struggle which was being fought out in the bedcham- 
 ber above. The old doctor came down and joined 
 him at dinner time. He met Dominey's eager glance 
 with a little nod. 
 
 " She's doing all right," he declared. 
 
 " No fever or anything? " 
 
 " Bless you, no ! She's as near as possible in per- 
 fect health physically. A different woman from 
 what she was this time last year, I can tell you. 
 When she wakes up, she'll either be herself again, 
 without a single illusion of any sort, or — " 
 
 The doctor paused, sipped his wine, emptied his 
 glass and set it down approvingly. 
 
 " Or? " Dominey persisted. 
 
 *' Or that part of her brain will be more or less 
 permanently affected. However, I am hoping for the 
 best. Thank heavens you're on the spot ! " 
 
 They finished their dinner almost in silence. 
 Afterwards, they smoked for a few minutes upon the 
 terrace. Then they made their way softly upstairs.
 
 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 321 
 
 The doctor parted with Dominey at the door of the 
 lattcr's room. 
 
 " I shall remain with her for an hour or so," he 
 said. " After that I shall leave her entirely to her- 
 self. You'll be here in case there's a change? " 
 
 " I shall be here," Dominey promised. 
 
 The minutes passed into hours, uncounted, unno- 
 ticed. Dominey sat in his easy-chair, stirred by a 
 tumultuous wave of passionate emotion. The mem- 
 ory of those earlier da3's of his return came back to 
 him with all their poignant longings. He felt again 
 the same tearing at his heart-strings, the same 
 strange, unnerving tenderness. The great world's 
 drama, in which he knew that he, too, would surely 
 continue to play his part, seemed like a thing far 
 off, the concern of another race of men. Every 
 fibre of his being seemed attuned to the magic and 
 the music of one wild hope. Yet when there came 
 what he had listened for so long, the hope seemed 
 frozen into fear. He sat a little forward in his easy- 
 chair, his hands gripping its sides, his eyes fixed 
 uj)on the slowly widening crack in the panel. It was 
 as it had been before. She stooped low, stood up 
 again and came towards him. From behind an un- 
 seen hand closed the panel. She came to him with her 
 arms outstretched and all the wonderful things of 
 life and love in her shining ej^es. That faint touch 
 of the somnambulist had passed. She came to him 
 as she had never come before. She was a very real 
 and a very live woman. 
 
 " Everard ! " she cried.
 
 322 THE GREAT IMPERSONATION 
 
 He took her into his arms. At their first kiss she 
 thrilled from head to foot. For a moment she laid 
 her head upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Oh, I have been so silly ! " she confessed. 
 " There were times when I couldn't believe that jou 
 were my Everard — mine ! And now I know." 
 
 Her lips sought his again, his parched with the 
 desire of years. Along the corridor, the old doctor 
 tiptoed his way to his room, with a pleased smile upon 
 his face. 
 
 THE END
 
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