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      "Yes. What is the message?"

      Lord St. Amant felt a slight tremor of discomfort sweep over him. What an odd time to send a trunk-call through—at close on midnight.

      "Sir Angus has been trying to get on for some time, my lord; there was a fault on the line. Sir Angus would be much obliged if you would meet him at your lordship's rooms at one o'clock to-morrow. He says he's sorry to trouble your lordship to come up to London, but it's very important. He came himself to the telephone, my lord. He asked who I was. I did offer to fetch your lordship, but he said there was no occasion for that—if I would deliver the message myself."

      "All right, Barrett."

      "Sir Angus begs your lordship not to tell any one that your business to-morrow is with him."

      "I quite understand that."