the crowd!"

Up at the end of Dover Street, where Grafton Street begins, the roadway
was blocked with people. When we reached the crowd we had some
difficulty in forcing our way through it. A dozen policemen were keeping
people back.

"Are you Lord Easterton?" the officer at the entrance asked, as
Easterton handed him his card. "Ah, then come this way, please, m'lord.
This gentleman a friend of yours? Follow the constable, please."

We were shown into a room on the ground floor, to the right of the hall.
It was large, high-ceilinged, with a billiard table in the middle. Half
a dozen men were standing about, two in police uniform; the remainder I
guessed to be constables in plain clothes.

Suddenly I started, and uttered an exclamation.

Seated in a big arm-chair was Dulcie Challoner, looking pale,
frightened. Beside her, with her back to me, stood Aunt Hannah!




CHAPTER VII


OSBORNE'S STORY

"Good heavens, Dulcie!" I exclaimed, hurrying across to her, "whatever