any moment.

"Have you anything to say?" I asked.

"You do not understand," he said, in a low tone. "I did not mean to
put this thing upon you. I meant, perhaps, to disable that man who has
just left. If you knew his history and mine, you would not wonder at
it. But I meant to see that he was safely removed."

"Then why did you bring me down into that room," I asked, "under a
false pretence? Why did you use that murderous cane of mine for your
crime? Why did you insist upon it that I should be seen dining with
the girl--God knows who she is!--who is in that room?"

"I can explain everything," Louis said. "I am confused! I cannot help
it--you came so unexpectedly!"

"Unexpectedly indeed," I answered, "because I poured your whiskey and
soda out of the window, and because I took an antidote to your coffee!"

"You speak of things which I do not understand," Louis declared.

"Oh! tell me no more lies!" I exclaimed. "Listen! You see I have you
by the collar, and I have my cane. Now I am going to beat you till
every bone in your body aches, till you will not be able to crawl
about, until you tell me the real history of these things. For every
lie--if I know it to be a lie--I shall strike you. Tell me who that
man Delora is? Tell me who the girl is, posing as his niece, who meets
you here after midnight? Tell me the name of that man who has just
left us? Tell me how you are all bound together, and what your quarrel
is? And tell me where Delora is now?"

"I have no strength," he gasped. "You are too rough. Let me sit down
quietly. I must think."

"No!" I answered. "Speak! Speak now!"

I raised the stick as though to strike him. Then I saw a sudden change
in his face. I looked toward the door. Almost as I did so I heard the
faint flutter of moving draperies. Felicia stood there looking in upon
us, her hands uplifted, her face full of terror.

"It is Capitaine Rotherby!" she cried. "Tell me, then, what has
happened? Capitaine Rotherby!"

She came a little toward us, but I think that she read in my face
something of what I was feeling, for she stopped suddenly and her lips
quivered.

"What has happened?" she demanded. "Will neither of you tell me? Is my
uncle worse? Has any one--any one tried to do him an injury?"

"Nothing is the matter," I answered, "except that we have come to an
end of this tissue of lies and plots and counterplots. There is no
uncle of yours in that room, nor ever has been. The man who was to