rom sleeping even had his
anxieties about his immediate future not sufficed to do so. As for Sir
Terence, his was the most deplorable case of all. This man who had lived
a life of simple and downright honesty in great things and in small, a
man who had never stooped to the slightest prevarication, found
himself suddenly launched upon the most horrible and infamous course of
duplicity to encompass the ruin of another. The offence of that other
against himself might be of the most foul and hideous, a piece of
treachery that only treachery could adequately avenge; yet this
consideration was not enough to appease the clamours of Sir Terence's
self-respect.

In the end, however, the primary desire for vengeance and vengeance of
the bitterest kind proved master of his mind. Captain Tremayne had been
led by his villainy into a coil that should presently crush him, and Sir
Terence promised himself an infinite balm for his outraged honour in the
entertainment which the futile struggles of the victim should provide.
With Captain Tremayne lay the cruel choice of submitting in tortured
silence to his fate, or of turning craven and saving his miserable
life by proclaiming himself a seducer and a betrayer. It should be
interesting to observe how the captain would decide, and his punishment
was certain whatever the decision that he took.

Sir Terence came to breakfast in the open, grey-faced and haggard, but
miraculously composed for a man who had so little studied the art
of concealing his emotions. Voice and glance were calm as he gave a
good-morning to his wife and to Miss Armytage.

"What are you going to do about Ned?" was one of his wife's first
questions.

It took him aback. He looked askance at her, marvelling at the
steadiness with which she bore his glance, until it occurred to him that
effrontery was an essential part of the equipment of all harlots.

"What am I going to do?" he echoed. "Why, nothing. The matter is out of
my hands. I may be asked to give evidence; I may even be called to sit
upon the court-martial that will try him. My evidence can hardly assist
him. My conclusions will naturally be based upon the evidence that is
laid before the court."

Her teaspoon rattled in her saucer. "I don't understand you, Terence.
Ned has always been your best friend."

"He has certainly shared everything that was mine."

"And you know," she went on, "that he did not kill Samoval."

"Indeed?" His glance quickened a litt