looked black and uninhabited, but somewhere within
it, he was sure, Shaw and the blond secretary watched and waited. To the
Italians he gave no thought. He was convinced that neither of them cared
to come alone to close quarters with him; and this conviction was so
strong that the prompt retreat of the fellow with the rope had not
surprised him, either at the moment or in retrospect, though both men
had fought well under Shaw's eyes. If the Italians were again on guard
in the grounds, it would be his job to choke them off before they could
warn Shaw of his presence. Warning Shaw, he hoped, was about all they
were good for.

His plan, fully made, was very simple. He had no intention of risking
another encounter if it could be avoided. His purpose was to get Doris
out of that house, back to New York, and in Louise Ordway's care with
the least possible difficulty and delay. That done, he could take up his
little affair with Shaw. Even against the blond secretary he felt no
personal rancor. The youth with the pursuing eyes and the chloroform was
merely a wretched pawn in Shaw's game.

In Shaw's game! The phrase stuck, burning into his consciousness like
the vitriol he believed the beast would use if he dared. What _was_
Shaw's game? Why was he so smugly sure of it? And why, oh, why, _why_,
was Doris seemingly numb to its danger, yet anxious for his help? For
the first time he gave definite shape to a reflection that for hours had
been trying to catch his attention, and from which he had restively
turned. It was this:

When those four men, headed by Shaw, had entered that upper room, Doris
had not been surprised. She had expected them. Moreover, she had not
been really afraid. Instead, she had worn a look of flaming anger and of
sudden resolution. She had stepped forward as if to speak. Her very
lips had been parted for speech. Then, Shaw had looked at her, and
slowly she had turned away and stood staring out at the window, her back
to the room and its tableau. In short, with one glance of his veiled,
protruding eyes, Shaw had conquered her, and Laurie himself had seen,
what no one could have made him believe, her instantaneous and complete
submission.

It was this revelation which had added the smoke barrage of doubt to the
situation, clouding his faculties and temporarily stifling his faith. In
the face of this, how could he still trust? Yet he had promised to
trust, to believe, "whatever happened." Those had been his