“My dear Caterham,” said George, shaking him by the hand, “I got your message, and came over, of course.”

“Very good of you, my dear fellow, very good of you. Delighted to see you.” Lord Caterham’s conscience always drove him on to an excess of geniality when he was conscious of feeling none. “Not that it was my message, but that doesn’t matter at all.”

In the meantime, Bill was attacking Bundle in an undertone.

“I say. What’s it all about? What’s this I hear about Virginia bolting off in the middle of the night? She’s not been kidnapped, has she?”

“Oh, no,” said Bundle. “She left a note pinned to the pincushion in the orthodox fashion.”

“She’s not gone off with anyone, has she? Not with that Colonial Johnny? I never liked the fellow and, from all I hear, there seems to be an idea floating around that he himself is the super crook. But I don’t quite see how that can be?”