ring in Sir
Eustace's voice; the red glare was gone from his eyes, they were cold and
hard as a winter sky.

"Yes," Scott said again, still not looking at him.

"And why?" The words fell brief and imperious, compelling in their
incisiveness.

Scott's eyes returned to his, almost in protest. "I told her you ought to
know," he said.

"Then she would not have told me otherwise?"

"Possibly not."

There fell another silence. Sir Eustace looked hard and straight into the
pale eyes, as though he would pierce to the soul behind. But though Scott
met the look unwavering, his soul was beyond all scrutiny. There was
something about him that baffled all search, something colossal that
barred the way. For the second time Sir Eustace realized himself to be at
a disadvantage; haughtily he passed the matter by.

"In that case there is nothing further to be said. You have fulfilled
your somewhat rash undertaking, and that you have come out of the
business with a whole skin is a bigger piece of luck than you deserved.
If Dinah wishes this matter to go any further, she must come to me
herself."

"Otherwise you will take no action?" Scott's voice had its old somewhat
weary intonation. The animation seemed to have died out of him.

"Exactly." Sir Eustace answered him with equal deliberation. "So far as
you are concerned the incident is now closed."

Scott took his hand from the door and moved slowly away. "I have put the
whole case before you," he said. "I think you clearly understand that if
you are going to try and use force, I am bound--as a friend--to take her
part against you. She relies upon me for that, and--I shall not
disappoint her. You see," a hint of compassion sounded in his voice, "she
has always been afraid of you; and she knows that I am not."

Sir Eustace smiled cynically. "Oh, you have always been ready to rush
in!" he said. "Doubtless your weakness is your strength."

Scott met the gibe with tightened lips. He made no attempt to reply to
it. "The only thing left," he said quietly, "is for you to see her and
hear what she has to say. She is waiting in the conservatory."

"She is waiting?" Eustace wheeled swiftly.

Scott was already half-way across the room. He strode forward, and
intercepted him.

"You can go," he said curtly. "You have done your part. This business is
mine, not yours."

Scott stood still. "I have promised to see her through," he said. "I must
keep my promise."

Sir Eustace looked f