speed rose next morning with a sense of his dangers and responsibilities. he had sat up late the night before, thinking things over to the accompaniment of much whisky and soda. therefore, his head was heavy and his eyes were dull as he crept down late to breakfast. he was inclined to take the gloomiest view of the situation; the cheerfulness of mr. george dashwood irritated him.

whatever dashwood's faults were, he did not number dissipation of that degrading kind amongst them. he looked cheerful enough as he sat before the open window reading the paper and smoking an after-breakfast cigarette. he greeted speed heartily.

"why do you smoke here?" the latter growled. "you know i can't stand the smell of tobacco before i've had my breakfast. go outside and finish it."

"all right, my dear fellow," dashwood said politely. there was something almost cringing in his manner. "sorry to annoy you. fine morning."

the speaker appeared anxious to please. he wanted to ignore the unpleasant feeling that speed despised him. there was little chance now of burning incense on the altar of family pride; speed took care of that. he was at no pains to conceal the fact that he regarded dashwood as a pensioner, dependent upon his bounty, and to be treated accordingly. dashwood had fallen a long way indeed when he accepted the hospitality of his supplanter.

"what a confounded nuisance that old beggar is," he muttered, heedless of the fact that slight stood by the sideboard. "i shall have to get rid of him altogether. if he had the spirit of a man he would not stay here. and they talk of the pride of the dashwoods. slight, why aren't there any curried eggs and some devilled kidneys? am i always to be telling you about it? what a fine thing it is to be a pampered, lazy lout of a man-servant. what are you gaping at?"

"the eggs are under the silver cover, sir," slight replied. "the kidneys are here over the spirit lamp, sir. the rest of your remarks are unnecessary, sir."

"oh, are they? did you behave in this insolent way in sir ralph's time?"

"sir ralph was a gentleman, sir. he knew how to speak to his dependents."

"oh, did he?" speed roared, "i suppose i don't. if i like to swear at my confounded flunkeys i'll do it. they can take it out in extra wages. if this kind of thing goes on we shall part, slight."

"very good, sir," slight responded. "you have only to say the word. you may be interested to hear that only last night i had great difficulty in preventing the whole of the servants from resigning in a body."

speed had no more to say. he was half afraid of a quarrel to the end with slight. the latter knew too much. the studied insolence that underlay his respectful manner proved that. he moved about the room now with the air of a man who is depriving himself of the decencies of life. he poured out the coffee in a lordly way, as if under protest. speed made advances towards conciliation.

"mr. mayfield is coming down tonight," he said, "he will dine here and probably stay till tomorrow. tell the housekeeper this. mr. darnley will dine here also. i should like the cook to be sure of something extra. i can leave you to see to the wines."

"mr. darnley dining here, sir?" slight asked with a rising inflection of voice. "coming here tonight to meet that--i mean, mr. mayfield?"

"well, why not? any objection to make, slight? any little alteration to suit you? you have only to mention it."

slight muttered a hasty apology. he had come very near to betraying himself. as he looked into speed's bloodshot eyes he saw something there that filled his heart with a sudden fear. for the old man knew everything; there was not a single move in the game with which he was not acquainted.

but speed had forgotten all about slight and his little slip. a small liqueur and a cigarette put him on good terms with himself once more. it was a beautiful day, too, with a soft breeze and brilliant sunshine. across the park the deer were moving in a dappled line; the fine old gardens were looking their very best. as speed paced up and down the terrace one gardener and another touched their hats to him. it filled him with a feeling of pleasure--flattered self-importance. it was worth the risk to be the head of a place like this, to feel that it was all his own. and only two years before he had been the slave of the pen, the toady of a sweating employer.

speed felt that he could never give it up again. in his heart he was a murderer, so far as ralph darnley was concerned. he had read somewhere that there were several different kinds of poisons that left no trace behind. one of these was the virus of the cobra. no doubt that could be obtained in london, where money could procure anything. a drop of that, and ralph darnley was a dead man. nobody would be any the wiser, it would be assumed that he had died of heart failure. a comparatively small outlay might procure the poison. it would be worth while going to london to see.

in these circumstances speed knew that he would not have hesitated. he really could not give up the place. he had always naturally been of extravagant, luxurious tastes, and now he was in a position to gratify them to the full. the new west end tailor grovelled before him; jewellers and wine and cigar merchants laid their stocks at his feet; he had only to choose the list. if he rang the bell a score of servants were ready to wait on him; the costliest wines were at his disposal.

no, it would be impossible to give it up. speed's mind kept harping on the matter of those poisons. he must try to find out where they could be procured. once ralph darnley was out of the way, nobody would trouble him any more. once that event happened nobody would dispute his claim. but then perhaps mayfield had an idea. mayfield was a clever, long-headed chap, who was not disposed to be scrupulous. on the whole, perhaps it would be as well to leave things to mayfield.

there would be plenty of time to discuss matters before dinner. there was more than time as it turned out, for mayfield arrived unexpectedly before luncheon. he looked drawn and worried, speed thought, but there was a grim determination in his eye that speed liked. mr. dashwood met mayfield in the friendliest possible manner. if he felt any disgust towards the newcomer he disguised it very effectively. he went off presently under a strong hint that his host and mayfield had some important business to discuss. he was going as far as longtown, he said, and should not be back before dinner.

"that's the way to get rid of him," speed said as he lay back in his chair, a large cigar between his lips. slight had placed the wine on the table and vanished. "what a useless old encumbrance he is about the house. i shall have to get rid of him, mayfield. when i wrote my generous offer i hoped that mary would come, too. those confounded servants want keeping in hand, and, besides, nobody seems to care about calling here, so long as there is nothing in the shape of a mistress about the place."

"everybody has been wise," mayfield said cynically. "anyway, i am glad you have not got rid of old dashwood yet. he is going to be a puppet in the play. we shall be able to make a very effective use of him before the day is out. nothing happened yet, no kind of move on the part of the foe, i suppose?"

"no," speed explained, "nothing. i saw lady dashwood last night. she treated me just in the same way as usual, which is all the more strange if she knows who i really am."

"i don't suppose for a moment that she knows who you really are," mayfield said. "she may know who you are not--and that's her grandson. but if darnley was out of the way things would be quite different. nobody would worry you any longer. how did you manage to get him to come and dine here tonight?"

"the thing worked out easily enough. i simply asked him and he said yes. he hesitated just for a moment, and then he smiled in a queer kind of way. but one thing you may be sure of--he would not have come had he known that he was going to meet you."

"perhaps not," mayfield grinned. "shall we dine here tonight?"

the question was put so abruptly that speed started. he could see that something evil was brooding in the mind of his companion. mayfield's eyes were taking in the arrangements of the room as a general might survey a field of battle. there were three long windows in the room, leading to a kind of balcony outside. in front of one of the windows was a double screen in carved oak, which shielded the window and made it into a kind of alcove. mayfield noted all this with grim satisfaction, for a smile played about the corners of his hard mouth.

"i asked you if we dined here tonight?" he said again.

"oh, yes. why not? we generally dine here--it is so much more pleasant a room than the big dining hall. why do you ask?"

"we will come to that presently," mayfield replied. "i take it that those windows open to the terrace outside. is there a seat behind that screen? i mean a seat that one could lounge in."

"a big armchair," speed whispered. "what are you driving at?"