itself was given up entirely to weapons or instruments of
sport. Guns, fishing-rods, hunting-stocks, golf-clubs, tennis-rackets,
were stored in various racks and stands. A smell of stale cigar-smoke
pervaded it. Colonel de Vigne was wont to retire hither at night in
preference to the less cosy and intimate smoking-room.

But there was no one here now, and Scott laid hat and riding-whip upon
the table and drew forward a chair for his companion.

She looked at him and tried to thank him, but she was voiceless. Her pale
lips moved without sound.

Scott's eyes were very kindly. "Don't be so frightened, child!" he said;
and then, a sudden thought striking him, "Look here! You go and wait in
the conservatory and let me speak to him first! Yes, that will be the
best way. Come!"

His hand touched her again. She turned as one compelled. But as he opened
the glass door, she found her voice.

"Oh, I ought not to--to let you face him alone. I must be brave. I must."

"Yes, you must," Scott answered. "But I will see him alone first. It will
make it easier for everyone."

Yet for a moment she halted still. "You really mean it? You wish it?"

"Yes, I wish it," he said. "Wait in here till I call you!"

She took him at his word. There was no other course. He closed the door
upon her and turned back alone.

He sat down in the chair that he had placed for her and became motionless
as a figure carved in bronze. His pale face and trim, colourless beard
were in shadow, his eyes were lowered. There was scarcely an inanimate
object in the room as insignificant and unimposing as he, and yet in his
stillness, in his utter unobtrusiveness, there lay a strength such as the
strongest knight who ever rode in armour might have envied.

There came a careless step without, a hand upon the door. It opened, and
Sir Eustace, handsome, self-assured, slightly haughty, strode into the
room.

"Hullo, Stumpy! What do you want? I can't stop. I am booked to play
billiards with Miss de Vigne. A test match to demonstrate the steadiness
of my nerves!"

Scott stood up. "I have a bigger test for you than that, old chap," he
said. "Shut the door if you don't mind!"

Sir Eustace sent him a swift, edged glance. "I can't stop," he said
again. "What is it? Some mare's nest about Isabel?"

"No, nothing whatever to do with Isabel. Shut the door, man! I must be
alone with you for a few minutes." Scott spoke with unwonted vehemence.
The careless notes of the