"Then let's have lunch at once and be off. I'm all eagerness to commence."
We accordingly ordered lunch, and when it was finished set off in search of a public library. Having found it—and it was not a very difficult matter—we sought the reading room and made for a stand of Sydney Morning Heralds in the corner. Somehow I felt as certain of finding what I wanted there as any man could possibly be, and as it happened I was not destined to be disappointed. On the second page, surmounted by heading in bold type, was a long report of a horse show, held the previous afternoon, at which it appeared a large viceregal and fashionable party was present. It included his Excellency the Governor and the Countess of Amberley, the Ladies Hand and Ermyntrude, their daughters, the Marquis of Beckenham, Captain Barrenden, an aide-de-camp, and Mr. Baxter. In a voice that I hardly recognised as my own, so shaken was it with excitement, I called Beckenham to my side and pointed out to him his name. He stared and stared hardly able to believe his eyes.
"What does it mean?" he whispered, just as he had done in Port Said. "What does it mean?"
I led him out of the building before I answered and then clapped him on the shoulder.
"It means, my boy," I said, "that there's been a hitch somewhere in their arrangements, and that we're not too late to circumvent them after all."
"But where do you think they are staying—these two scoundrels?"
"At Government House to be sure. Didn't you see that the report said, 'The Earl and Countess of Amberley and a distinguished party from Government House, including the Marquis of Beckenham,' etc.?"
