Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. " "That's well!" cried Jack. " "I cannot consent to it," replied Sir Rowland firmly. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. There was no response. ‘Soldier of fortune. ‘Um—begging your pardon, sir, but—um—what was you meaning to arrest the young lady for?’ ‘Trespassing, theft, and suspicion of spying,’ announced Roding fluently. The heavy weapon thundered against the door; and it speedily yielded to their efforts. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. “We parted— that night the best of friends.
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