There was a tap at the door, and Masters, his confidential valet, came in.
"Well," said Lionel, "have you looked through the post?"
"Yes, sir," said the man. "There's the usual cheque from Her Highness, a request for more time from the lady in Tite Street with twopence to pay on the envelope, and banknotes from the Professor as expected. The young gentleman of Hill Street has gone abroad suddenly, sir."
"Ah!" said Lionel, with a sudden frown. "I suppose you'd better cross him off our list, Masters."
"Yes, sir. I had ventured to do so, sir. I think that's all, except that Mr. Snooks is glad to accept your kind invitation to dinner and bridge to-night. Will you wear the hair-spring coat, sir, or the metal clip?"
Lionel made no answer. He sat plunged in thought. When he spoke it was about another matter.
"Masters," he said, "I have found out Lord Fairlie's secret at last. I shall go to see him this afternoon."
"Yes, sir. Will you wear your revolver, sir, as it's a first call?"
"I think so. If this comes off, Masters, it will make our fortune."
"I hope so, I'm sure, sir." Masters placed the whisky within reach and left the room silently.