d gloomy. Her sense of
heroism barely supported her; things were so very uncomfortable. If
Harry could know what she suffered for him, it would be something. But
Mina had an idea that Harry was thinking very little about her.
Moreover, in taking sides in a controversy, perhaps the most important
practical question is--whom has one got to live with? She had to live
not with Harry Tristram, but with that glowering uncle, Major Duplay.
Agree with your enemy whiles you are in the house with him, even more
than whiles you are in the way.

At this point--the deadlock demanded by the canons of art having been
reached by the force of circumstances and the clash of wills--enter the
_Deus ex Machina_, in the shape of a pretty parlormaid in a black gown
and white apron, with a bow of pink ribbon at her neck; instead of the
car, a silver salver, and on it a single letter.

"For you, ma'am," said the _Deus_, and with a glance at Neeld (merely
because he was a man and a stranger) she ended her brief but momentous
appearance on the stage.

The Imp was in no mood for ceremony; one glance at the handwriting, and
she tore the envelope open eagerly. Iver was whispering to Duplay.
Neeld's eyes were on the ceiling, because he did not know where else he
could direct them with any sense of safety.

Mina read. A gasp of breath from her brought Neeld's eyes down from
their refuge and stayed Iver and the Major's whispered talk. She gazed
from one to the other of them. She had flushed red; her face was very
agitated and showed a great stress of feeling. Duplay with an
exclamation of surprise put out his hand for the letter. But Mina kept
hers on it, pinning it immovably to the table. For another minute she
sat there, facing the three. Then all composure failed her; she burst
into tears, and bowing her head to meet her arms on the table, covering
the letter with her hair, she sobbed violently.

The fort she had been defending was betrayed from within. For some
reason unknown, unguessable, the champion she fought for had fled from
the fight. And the few words of his message--aye, and that he should
send a message to her--pierced her to the heart. Strained already by her
battle, she was broken down by this sudden end to it, this sudden and
disastrous end.

"I can't help it, I can't help it," the men heard her say between her
sobs.

Her apology did nothing to relieve their extreme discomfort. All three
felt brutal; even the Major's face lost