'Then no apology will suffice?'
'None. And you will oblige me?'
'With pleasure,' replied the Belgian, as he buckled on his sword, leisurely lit a cigarette and crossed the open, sunny space of the Place Verte, went to the hotel indicated and sent up his card, which, in Belgian fashion, was twice the size of an English one, and bore his name in large letters,
VICTOR GABION,
Capitaine d' Artillerie,
with the letters E.L.V., signifying 'En la Ville;' and after some delay he was ushered into the room of Lord Cadbury, whom he found in a rich robe de chambre tied with silk cords, and wearing an elaborate smoking-cap. He laid his cigar on the stove, near which he was standing, and tried to eye his visitor superciliously, and to the acute eyes of the latter his large feet, coarse hands and ears, looked rather strange in an English peer; but he inherited them with the alderman's money, and they showed the plebeian drop in his blood, as also did his love for trinkets and personal adornment.
'You call yourself Captain Victor Gabion of the Belgian Artillery,' said he, glancing at the card, and tossing it beside his cigar.
'I am Captain Victor Gabion, of the Belgian Artillery,' replied the officer, quietly.
'And what do you want with me? I have not the honour of your acquaintance,' said Cadbury, having all the while a perfect intuition of his visitor's purpose.
'I am here in the interest of Captain Bevil Goring, of Her Britannic Majesty's service, and monsieur must know with what views.'
'Haven't the slightest idea,' yawned Cadbury, yet nervously, as he resumed his cigar.