As he went through the gate some one laid a hand upon his shoulder.
"The Honourable Percival Elster, I believe ?" Lord Hartledon looked at the intruder.

A seedy man, with a long coat and red whiskers, who held out something to him.
"Who are you ?" he asked, releasing his shoulder by a sharp movement.
"I'm sorry to do it, sir; but you know we are only the agent of others in these affairs.

You are my prisoner, sir." "Indeed!" said Lord Hartledon, taking the matter coolly.

"You have got hold of the wrong man for once.

I am not Mr.Percival Elster." The capturer laughed: a very civil laugh.