upon them to kill each other. They would separate us, and to-morrow
morning appear as witnesses against us at Bow Street. We have here
to-night, in the persons of Sir Andrew and myself, an illustration of
how the ways have changed."

The men around the table turned and glanced toward the gentleman in
front of the fireplace. He was an elderly and somewhat portly person,
with a kindly, wrinkled countenance, which wore continually a smile of
almost childish confidence and good-nature. It was a face which the
illustrated prints had made intimately familiar. He held a book from
him at arm's-length, as if to adjust his eyesight, and his brows were
knit with interest.

"Now, were this the eighteenth century," continued the gentleman with
the black pearl, "when Sir Andrew left the Club to-night I would have
him bound and gagged and thrown into a sedan chair. The watch would
not interfere, the passers-by would take to their heels, my hired
bullies and ruffians would convey him to some lonely spot where we
would guard him until morning. Nothing would come of it, except added
reputation to myself as a gentleman of adventurous spirit, and
possibly an essay in the 'Tatler,' with stars for names, entitled, let
us say, 'The Budget and the Baronet.'"

"But to what end, sir?" inquired the youngest of the members. "And why
Sir Andrew, of all persons--why should you select him for this
adventure?"

The gentleman with the black pearl shrugged his shoulders.

"It would prevent him speaking in the House to-night. The Navy