“Of course I did!” exclaimed the young man.  “I mean, what is the name of the man who shot it?  Tell the gentlemen who I am.  They wouldn’t believe me.”

“Who you are, my lord?” said Joseph.  “You are Lord Edam’s son, the Earl of Chetney.”

“You must admit,” said Lord Chetney, when the noise had died away, “that I couldn’t remain dead while my little brother was accused of murder.  I had to do something.  Family pride demanded it.  Now, Arthur, as the younger brother, can’t afford to be squeamish, but, personally, I should hate to have a brother of mine hanged for murder.”

“You certainly showed no scruples against hanging me,” said the American, “but, in the face of your evidence, I admit my guilt, and I sentence myself to pay the full penalty of the law as we are made to pay it in my own country.  The order of this court is,” he announced, “that Joseph shall bring me a wine-card, and that I sign it for five bottles of the Club’s best champagne.”

“Oh, no!” protested the man with the pearl stud, “it is not for you to sign it.  In my opinion, it is Sir Andrew who should pay the costs.  It is time you knew,” he said, turning to that gentleman, “that, unconsciously, you have been the victim of what I may call a patriotic conspiracy.  These stories have had a more serious purpose than merely to amuse.  They have been told with the worthy object of detaining you from the House of Commons.  I must explain to you that, all through this evening, I have had a servant waiting in Trafalgar Square with instructions to bring me word as soon as the light over the House of Commons had ceased to burn.  The light is now out, and the object for which we plotted is attained.”

The Baronet glanced, keenly, at the man with the black pearl, and then, quickly, at his watch.  The smile disappeared from his lips, and his face was set in stern and forbidding lines.

“And may I know,” he asked, icily, “what was the object of your plot?”

“A most worthy one,” the other retorted.  “Our object was to keep you from advocating the expenditure of many millions of the people’s money upon more battle-ships.  In a word, we have been working together to prevent you from passing the Navy Increase Bill.”

Sir Andrew’s face bloomed with brilliant color.  His body shook with suppressed emotion.

“My dear sir!” he cried, “you should spend more time at the House and less at your Club.  The Navy Bill was brought up on its third reading at eight o’clock this evening.  I spoke for three hours in its favor.  My only reason for wishing to return again to the House to-night was to sup on the terrace with my old friend, Admiral Simons; for my work at the House was completed five hours ago, when the Navy Increase Bill was passed by an overwhelming majority.”

The Baronet rose and bowed.  “I have to thank you, sir,” he said, “for a most interesting evening.”

The American shoved the wine-card which Joseph had given him toward the gentleman with the black pearl.