Owen had folded his arms and was coolly surveying him across the table—there was a curl to his mustached lip that told of fine scorn.

Some men can stand almost anything rather than to be made a mark for irony or disdain, and it was this more than anything else that brought Wellington furiously to the front.

"See here, Owen, all chicanery aside, how the devil do you happen to be here at the Shelbourne instead of on a yacht bound for Havre, and eventually to the gamester's Paradise?" he blurted out.

"A plain question and deserving an equally candid answer. To tell you the truth then, my dear fellow, I had decided objections to making such a hasty trip across to the Continent. Your preparations for my comfort were overwhelming, and while I appreciated all you did I was obliged to respectfully decline."

"Well, my own eyes tell me you are here, but I'll take my oath I saw one who looked enough like you to be your shadow sail out of Kingstown harbor at three this morning[31] on board the steam yacht Galatea. And that was no hasheesh dream either, superinduced by Welsh rarebit or opium. Now, who the devil went to Havre?"

[31]

"A gentleman whose health needed the ocean voyage, and who believed he could enjoy the society of the gay set on board. I have no doubt he will be exceedingly grateful for all your trouble."

Jerome looked at first as though he could bite a nail with pleasure—Owen expected him to swear, but the other seldom gave way to such vulgar exhibitions of temper.

On the contrary he smiled, and his white teeth showing through his carefully adjusted mustache gave Roderic the impression of a grinning hyena.

Still, the application hardly fitted such a case, for Jerome was considered an extremely handsome and fascinating man, however much of a human wolf he might be back of the scenes.

"Owen, you have called the hand for the first round. It is on me, and devilish hard. I could ill afford the cold cash I spent to hire that boat. I sincerely trust your counterpart will choke upon the good victuals I put aboard or else make himself so beastly drunk upon the liquor that he will fall overboard in the bay of Biscay or somewhere along the French coast."

"Don't reproach me for doing just what you would have done had you been in my shoes, and the plot been revealed 

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