ring hatred of his look was matched by the ferocious
vindictiveness of his tone, as he spoke those words. It was horrible to
see him; it was horrible to hear him. Mr. Moy said to him, in a whisper,
"Control yourself, or I will throw up your case."

Without answering--without even listening--he lifted one of his hands,
and looked at it vacantly. He whispered something to himself; and
counted out what he was whispering slowly; in divisions of his own, on
three of his fingers in succession. He fixed his eyes again on Anne with
the same devouring hatred in their look, and spoke (this time directly
addressing himself to her) with the same ferocious vindictiveness in his
tone. "But for you, I should be married to Mrs. Glenarm. But for you,
I should be friends with my father. But for you, I should have won
the race. I know what I owe you." His loosely hanging hands stealthily
clenched themselves. His head sank again on his broad breast. He said no
more.

Not a soul moved--not a word was spoken. The same common horror held
them all speechless. Anne's eyes turned once more on Blanche. Anne's
courage upheld her, even at that moment.

Sir Patrick rose. The strong emotion which he had suppressed thus far,
showed itself plainly in his face--uttered itself plainly in his voice.

"Come into the next room," he said to Anne. "I must speak to you
instantly!"

Without noticing the astonishment that he caused; without paying
the smallest attention to the remonstrances addressed to him by his
sister-in-law and by the Scotch lawyer, he took Anne by the arm, opened
the folding-doors at one end of the room--entered the room beyond with
her--and closed the doors again.

Lady Lundie appealed to her legal adviser. Blanche rose--advanced a few
steps--and stood in breathless suspense, looking at the folding-doors.
Arnold advanced a step, to speak to his wife. The captain approached Mr.
Moy.

"What does this mean?" he asked.

Mr. Moy answered, in strong agitation on his side.

"It means that I have not been properly instructed. Sir Patrick Lundie
has some evidence in his possession that seriously compromises Mr.
Delamayn's case. He has shrunk from producing it hitherto--he finds
himself forced to produce it now. How is it," asked the lawyer, turning
sternly on his client, "that you have left me in the dark?"

"I know nothing about it," answered Geoffrey, without lifting his head.

Lady Lundie signed to Blanche to stand aside, and advanc