"War," snapped Maunders. "You can't hurt me and----"
"War let it be," interrupted Vernon, opening the door. "Good-day," and he walked out smartly, leaving his friend, or, rather, his enemy, now that war had been declared, rather surprised by his abrupt departure. But when the door closed Maunders' face grew black and his brow wrinkled.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have driven Arty to such a declaration," murmured the young man thoughtfully. "He's a fool, but a clever fool. After all, although I love Lucy it will be better for me to marry Ida since she has the money. I wonder how Aunt Emily found out about Ida's change towards me? It can't last, however, if I only take trouble to see her often enough. It's Lucy who holds me back. I'm a fool, as I know that Lucy doesn't care for me as she does for Arty. I wish I hadn't fought him now; but he can't harm me, he can't." Maunders glanced round the luxurious room. "He shan't. There's too much to lose. Damn him, I'll fight him and beat him. There!"
While Maunders was coming to this conclusion Vernon was walking swiftly along Piccadilly, in the direction of Covent Garden, as he intended to go to the office wherein he carried on business as Nemo. Now that Maunders had openly declared himself as an enemy the situation was somewhat adjusted, and Vernon felt that he could deal with it. He made up his mind to tackle Lady Corsoon that very day and ask if he might be permitted to pay attentions to Lucy. Then in an interview with the girl herself he might manage to brush aside this semi-hypnotic influence which Maunders' fascinating personality seemed to exercise over her. If he could only get the mother on his side all would be well. Lady Corsoon did not know that he was Nemo, which was just as well; but she did not know also that he had expectations from a bachelor uncle who could leave him a title and a fortune of three thousand a year. If this were set before her she might be induced to welcome him as a suitor, although both Sir Julius and Lady Corsoon were said to desire nothing less than a duke for their only child. But if this was the case, Vernon wondered why the lady tolerated Maunders, who was poor and without position. However, when he called that afternoon he might be able to learn the reason. At all events, his expectations, against Maunders' mere good looks, would probably carry the day.
At the office a surprise awaited him. His clerk, a dry-as-dust, lean old fellow, as silent and wise-looking as an owl, met him in the outer room with a mysterious face and informed him that a lady had been waiting an hour for the appearance of Nemo. She had refused to give any name, and had declared her intention of remaining until she saw the detective. Vernon, in his business capacity, was used to people who came and went without giving names, as their business was generally shady, so he did not pay much attention to the matter. Hanging up his coat and hat and laying aside his gloves and cane, he passed into the inner room. Then he received the surprise aforesaid. His client was none other than Lady Corsoon herself.
She arose, perfectly self-possessed, and did not appear to be surprised to see the young man. "How are you, Mr. Vernon?" she asked, holding out a gracious hand, "or perhaps I should call you Nemo here--Mr. Nemo."
Vernon, violently red and inwardly greatly upset by this recognition, accepted the gloved hand timidly. "How did you find out that I----"
"Oh, your enemy told me," finished Lady Corsoon, sitting down.
"My enemy?" stammered the unfortunate man nervously.
"Mr. Constantine Maunders, who----"