Chapter XVI.

       The Barber of Rotten Row

       Table of Contents

      Rob started when he saw Mary's father.

      'We have met before, Mr. Angus,' said the colonel courteously.

      'Yes,' answered Rob, without a tremor; 'at Dome Castle, was it not?'

      This was the Angus who had once been unable to salute anybody without wondering what on earth he ought to say next. This was the colonel whose hand had gaped five minutes before for Rob's throat. The frown on the face of Mary's father was only a protest against her lover's improved appearance. Rob was no longer the hobbledehoy of last Christmas. He was rather particular about the cut of his coat. He had forgotten that he was not a colonel's social equal. In short, when he entered a room now he knew what to do with his hat. Their host saw the two men measuring each other. Dick never smiled, but sometimes his mouth twitched, as now.

      'You had something special to tell me, had you not?' he asked Rob.

      'Well,' Rob replied, with hesitation, 'I have something for you in my rooms.'

      'Suppose my father,' began Dick, meaning to invite the colonel upstairs, but pausing as he saw Rob's brows contract. The colonel saw too, and resented it. No man likes to be left on the outskirts of a secret.

      'Run up yourself, Abinger,' Rob said, seating himself near Mary's father; 'and, stop, here are my keys. I locked it in.'

      'Why,' asked Dick, while his father also looked up, 'have you some savage animal up there?'

      'No,' Rob said, 'it is very tame.'

      Dick climbed the stair, after casting a quizzical look behind him, which meant that he wondered how long the colonel and Rob would last in a small room together. He unlocked the door of Rob's chambers more quickly than he opened it, for he had no notion of what might be caged up inside, and as soon as he had entered he stopped, amazed. All men of course are amazed once in their lives—when they can get a girl to look at them. This was Dick's second time.

      It was the hour of the evening when another ten minutes can be stolen from the day by a readjustment of one's window curtains. Rob's blind, however, had given way in the cords, and instead of being pulled up was twisted into two triangles. Just sufficient light straggled through the window to let Dick see the man who was standing on the hearthrug looking sullenly at his boots. There was a smell of oil in the room.

      Dowton!' Dick exclaimed; 'what masquerade is this?'

      The other put up his elbow as if to ward off a blow, and then Dick opened the eyes of anger.

      'Oh,' he said, 'it is you, is it?'

      They stood looking at each other in silence.

      'Just stand there, my fine fellow,' Dick said, 'until I light the gas. I must have a better look at you.'

      The stranger turned longing eyes on the door as the light struck him.

      'Not a single step in that direction,' said Dick, 'unless you want to go over the banisters.'

      Abinger came closer to the man who was Sir Clement Dowton's double, and looked him over. He wore a white linen jacket, and an apron to match, and it would have been less easy to mistake him for a baronet aping the barber than it had been for the barber to ape the baronet.

      'Your name?' asked Dick.

      'Josephs,' the other mumbled.

      'You are a barber, I presume?'

      'I follow the profession of hair-dressing,' replied Josephs, with his first show of spirit.

      Had Dick not possessed an inscrutable face, Josephs would have known that his inquisitor was suffering from a sense of the ludicrous. Dick had just remembered that his father was downstairs.

      'Well, Josephs, I shall have to hand you over to the police.'

      'I think not,' said Josephs, in his gentlemanly voice.

      'Why not?' asked Dick.

      'Because then it would all come out.'

      'What would all come out?'

      'The way your father was deceived. The society papers would make a great deal of it, and he would not like that.'

      Dick groaned, though the other did not hear him.

      'You read the society journals, Josephs?'

      'Rather!' said Josephs.

      'Perhaps you write for them?'

      Josephs did not say.

      'Well, how were you brought here?' Dick asked.

      'Your friend,' said Josephs sulkily, 'came into our place of business in Southampton Row half an hour ago, and saw me. He insisted on bringing me here at once in a cab. I wanted to put on a black coat, but he would not hear of it.'

      'Ah, then, I suppose you gave Mr. Angus the full confession of your roguery as you came along?'

      'He would not let me speak,' said Josephs. 'He said it was no affair of his.'

      'No? Then you will be so good as to favour me with the pretty story.'

      Dick lit a cigar and seated himself. The sham baronet looked undecidedly at a chair.

      'Certainly not,' said Dick; 'you can stand.'

      Josephs told his tale demurely, occasionally with a gleam of humour, and sometimes with a sigh. His ambition to be a gentleman, but with no desire to know the way, had come to him one day in his youth when another gentleman flung a sixpence at him. In a moment Josephs saw what it was to belong to the upper