deeply shocked, pained; would still be if they
should learn--"

"If?" John Steele did manage to contain himself, but it was with an
effort; perhaps he saw again through the fog a girl's face, white and
accusing, which had appeared; vanished. "You spoke of certain
instructions?" he even forced himself to say.

"Mr. Gillett, in the garden at Strathorn House, was authorized by me to
offer you one chance of avoiding exposure, and," deliberately, "the
attendant consequences; you were to be suffered to leave London, this
country, with the stipulation that you should never return." John Steele
shifted slightly. "You did not expect this," quickly, "you had not
included that contingency in your calculations?"

"I confess," in an even, emotionless voice, "your lordship's
complaisance amazes me."

"And you would have accepted the alternative?" The nobleman's accents
were now those of the service, diplomatic; they were concise but
measured.

"Why discuss what could never have been considered?" was the brusk
answer.

Lord Ronsdale frowned. "We are still fencing; we will waste no more
time." Perhaps the other's manner, assured, contemptuously distant,
goaded him; perhaps he experienced anew all that first violent,
unreasoning anger against this man whose unexpected coming to London had
plunged him into an unwelcome and irritating role. "That alternative is
still open. Refuse, and--you will be in the hands of the authorities
to-night. Resist--" His glittering eyes left no doubt whatever as to his
meaning.

"I shall not resist," said John Steele. "But--I refuse." He spoke
recklessly, regardlessly.

"In that case--" Lord Ronsdale half rose; his face looked drawn but
determined; he reached as if to touch a bell. "You force the issue,
and--"

"One moment." As he spoke John Steele stepped toward the fireplace; he
gazed downward at a tiny white ash on the glowing coals; a little film
that might have been--paper? "In a matter so important we may consider a
little longer, lest," still regarding the hearth, "there may be
after-regrets." His words even to himself sounded puerile; but what they
led to had more poignancy; he lifted now his keen glowing eyes. "In one
little regard I did your lordship an injustice."

"In what way?" The nobleman had been studying him closely, had followed
the direction of his glance; noted almost questioningly what it had
rested on--the coals, or vacancy?

"In supposing that you yourself murdered Am