Among the passengers on board the Cunard steamer which made its way up to its moorings in the Mersey on a misty and stormy morning three months after the tragedy which had taken place at Niagara Falls were Count Frederick de Vaugelade and his two English fellow-travelers, Mr. Harcourt and Lord Arthur Fitzjames. The intimacy between the three young men had become very much closer, and Frederick was under promise to visit each of them at his father's country-seat as soon as the London season was over.

On the day after their arrival in London Lord Arthur called at Frederick's hotel in Piccadilly, and after taking him for a lounge in the Row, and thence to lunch at his club, proceeded to his father's house in Park lane and introduced his friend to his mother and sisters. From that time forth Frederick became almost a daily visitor at the Marquis of Kingsbury's house.

His great attraction there was Lady Margaret, familiarly called “Pearl” in the family, a charming little brunette, with large, mischievous gray eyes and a joyful, light-hearted disposition which made her a general favorite. She set up a desperate flirtation with Frederick, and the latter began to believe that luck was decidedly with him, and that it only depended on himself to become a member of one of the greatest families of the United Kingdom.

Lady Margaret's elder sister, Lady Alice, appeared, however, from the first to be prejudiced against the young man, and showed him by her marked coldness that she at least was [Pg 158] not following the general example of admiring everything that he did or said. Indeed, he soon realized that she might become in an emergency a very serious obstacle to his matrimonial projects.

The marquis himself took an immense fancy to Frederick, and introduced him everywhere with such marked favor that the hopes of the young man began to grow into certitude.

One evening Frederick called toward 10 o'clock at the mansion in Park lane, and was ushered by the groom of the chambers into the drawing-room. The ladies had not yet left the dining-room, and he sat down on an ottoman to wait for them, taking up an album to while away the time.

As he was idly turning over the leaves he suddenly uttered an exclamation of surprise as he caught sight of a portrait of his old enemy, Capt. Clery.

“By Jove, this is unfortunate,” muttered he. “I hope the man is not in London, for if he is we may meet any day here and I shall be in a fine hole.”

He was so absorbed in the contemplation of the pictures that he did not hear the door open. A tall, soldierly figure entered the room and walked slowly toward where Frederick was sitting. As he laid his opera hat down on the table Frederick looked up, and could not help starting to his feet as he saw the original of the picture standing before him.

Frederick's first thought was to effect his escape without delay. But while he hesitated for a moment as to the means of doing so without attracting Captain Clery's attention, the drawing-room doors were thrown open, and Lady Kingsbury, followed by her daughters and two other ladies in full evening dress, entered the room. Baffled in his purpose, Frederick now determined to put the best face on the matter that he could. Of one thing he was certain, namely, that there had been no gleam of recognition in Clery's eye [Pg 159] when the latter had cursorily glanced at him on entering. The drawing-rooms were but dimly lighted by several shaded lamps, and the great change which had taken place in Frederick's appearance during the years which had elapsed since he left India encouraged him to hope that he might possibly escape detection, even on closer inspection. He therefore advanced toward the lady of the house, and, bowing low, kissed her outstretched hand with the graceful and never-failing courtesy that was habitual to him in his relations with the fair sex.

“How are you, my dear count? so glad to see you!” exclaimed the marchioness; then, as she caught sight of Captain Clery, who had meanwhile approached, she added: “Why, Charlie, is that you? I did not know you were back in town. Let me introduce you to the Comte de Vaugelade, a new but already very dear friend of ours.”

The two men bowed to each other, and Frederick began to feel more sure of his ground as Clery gave no token of ever having met him before.

The conversation soon became general, and Frederick, always a brilliant talker, surpassed himself that evening and kept them all interested and amused by his witty sallies and repartees until a late hour.

He noticed that on two or three occasions the colonel—for such Clery had now become—fixed his piercing blue eyes somewhat inquiringly on him, as if trying to place him. It was evident that he was rather puzzled.

At midnight they left the house together and strolled toward Piccadilly, chatting rather pleasantly on various topics. As they were about to take leave of each other, Colonel Clery suddenly exclaimed:

“I don't know why, but I have an impression that I have had the pleasure of meeting you once before, count. Your face seems familiar, although your name was until to-night unknown to me.”

[Pg 160]

“I fear that you must be mistaken, colonel,” quietly rejoined Frederick, taking out his match-box to light a cigarette. “I am quite sure that I have never had the honor of an introduction to you before—a circumstance which I certainly could not have forgotten had it taken place,” added he, with a bow.

Thereupon the two men shook hands cordially, and Frederick made his way back to his hotel, leaving Colonel Clery to hail a passing hansom and to drive home.

As the cab rattled up Piccadilly toward St. James, the colonel thoughtfully twirled his mustache as he muttered to himself:

“Dashed if I can make it out! Where on earth did I meet that French fellow before? It seems to me as if he were connected with some disagreeable incident of my past life, but I will be blessed if I can remember when or how. I must try to find it out, however. The Kingsburys are making such a friend of him; and I am afraid that little Pearl is fast losing her heart to him. I must have a talk with Alice about the matter, and ask her where Arthur picked him up.”

On the following day, meeting Lord Arthur in the Row, Colonel Clery questioned him about Frederick.

“Oh, Vaugelade is a capital fellow!” exclaimed the young lord. “Tommy Harcourt and I traveled with him all over America. Lots of money, you know; good form and all that. The girls at Ottawa and New York were all crazy about him. We thought we should never be able to get him away. Awfully good fellow, and the most agreeable traveling companion I have ever met!”

“Well, but, my dear boy, do you know anything more definite about him? You see, one can never know too much about these blasted foreigners. Wasn't it somewhat imprudent to introduce him to your mother and sisters? I [Pg 161] am afraid that Pearl is becoming rather infatuated with him.”

“Oh, hang it, Clery, you croak like an old parson. Pearl is a desperate flirt, and is always going it with some fellow or other. What would be the harm anyhow? I don't think the pater would object very much. Vaugelade has fortune, birth, position, good looks, talents.”

“What on earth do you know about his birth, position, or fortune beyond what he tells you himself?” remonstrated the colonel.

A look of real annoyance passed over Lord Arthur's good-humored face, as he exclaimed, with unusual asperity:

“Now, see here, Charlie, I think you have said enough. Vaugelade is a friend of mine, and I won't hear another word against him. Why, man alive, he is not poaching on your preserves. On the contrary, I am rather inclined to believe that he and Alice don't hit it off well together.”

“Shows her good sense,” interrupted Colonel Clery.

“Well, that is neither here nor there. Don't let us quarrel about it, there's a good fellow. By Jove, when you and Alice are married your house will be difficult of approach. I have never seen such people as you both are for always picking holes in everybody.”

Nothing more was said about the matter, and Colonel Clery decided to keep his own counsel in future.

A week later the colonel and Frederick both dined in Park lane, and as nobody was going out that night, the party assembled after dinner in Lady Kingsbury's boudoir and began looking over some magnificent photographs which Clery had given to Lady Alice on his return from India.

“Oh, by the by, my dear count,” said Lady Kingsbury to Frederick, who was sitting near her, “you must tell me all about that horrible story of the elephant execution which you told Pearl the other day. She has been talking so much [Pg 162] to me about it that I am quite anxious to hear from you if it is really true. Surely it is impossible that such barbarous cruelty should still be practiced in a country over which her majesty's power extends!”

“I don't believe a word of it!” exclaimed Lady Alice, in very decided tones. “The count, as we all know, is a great hand at oriental embroidery, no matter how flimsy the fabric on which it reposes.”

“My dear,” remonstrated her mother, “how can you say such a rude thing when Monsieur de Vaugelade has assured your sister that he himself has witnessed the ghastly scene with his own eyes!”

Colonel Clery, who was turning over the photographs, quickly looked up at this moment and cast a searching look on Frederick.

“Now, Charlie,” said Lady Alice, crossing over to him, “you have been in India. Do tell us if you have ever heard of this mode of execution?”

“Yes,” replied the colonel, slowly, “I have. It is, however, a very rare occurrence, and during the whole of my long stay in the East I have only known it to be applied on two occasions, both of which, as far as I can remember, took place at Baroda, a God-forsaken spot, ruled by a cruel and tyrannical man, who snaps his fingers at English laws. I particularly remember the last of these two executions, for the victim was a poor devil whose innocence was discovered some weeks after his having been put to death.”

“Oh, now, you must tell us all about it,” cried Lady Margaret, whose love of the horrible was a standing joke in the family. “It positively sounds like a story out of a novel.”

Colonel Clery, who had risen and was now standing before the fire-place, turned his eyes full upon Frederick and remarked:

“You really ought to ask Count de Vaugelade to tell you [Pg 163] all about it, instead of me. Having been present on one of these occasions, he is certainly in a better position to satisfy your curiosity than I am.”

“Not at all, my dear colonel. If the ladies insist on hearing about this vilaine affaire, I had much rather that you would tell them. But,” he added, in a somewhat agitated voice, “is it not rather a dismal subject to discuss? Let us talk of something else.”

“No, no,” urged Lady Margaret. “We are in for the horrible! Don't disappoint us, I beg of you.”

“Well, then, as the count is so modest and declines to give us another proof of his talents as a narrator, I will tell you what I know about the matter,” said Colonel Clery, as he resumed his seat.

“It was about eight or nine years ago, and I had only recently returned to India from a long furlough in England, when all Baroda and Bombay society were startled by the announcement of the murder of a very prominent and well-known Hindoo widow, whose body had been discovered among the ruins of a temple in the outskirts of Baroda. A poor, half-witted beggar had been found removing some jewels from the corpse as it lay in the long grass, and it was immediately taken for granted that it was he who had killed her. He was immediately seized and dragged before the guicowar or king, who lost no time in sentencing him to suffer death by the elephant. This most atrocious punishment, as Monsieur de Vaugelade will doubtless have informed you, consists in tying the culprit, who is securely bound hand and foot and unable to stir, by a long rope to the hind leg of the monster. The latter is then urged to a sharp trot, and at each movement of its leg the hel............