gan to hate the fellow, Chetwode.
'It was your wife,' he said, 'for whom Rosario wanted that title.
She could have stopped him--' Then he broke off, Chetwode. 'But I
don't suppose you understand these things,' he said. 'You'd better
just understand this, though. I am here to have a little explanation
with Mrs. Weatherley. I have a message for her, and she's got to
hear it from my own lips. When I've finished with her, I want her
brother, and when I've finished with him, I want the young man who
was here the other night. It's no good saying he's not here now,
because I saw him start.'"

Mr. Weatherley paused and felt his forehead.

"All the time, Chetwode," he went on, "I was watching the fellow,
and it began to dawn upon me that he was there to do her some
mischief. I didn't understand what it was all about but I could see
it in his face. He was an ill-looking ruffian. I remembered then
that Fenella had been frightened by some one hanging about the
house, more than once. Well, there he was opposite to me, Chetwode,
and by degrees I'd been moving a little nearer to him. He was after
mischief--I was sure of it. What should you have done, Chetwode?"

"I am not quite sure," Arnold answered. "What did you do?"

"We're coming to that," Mr. Weatherley declared, leaning a little
forward. "We're coming to that. Now in that open case, close to
where I was, my wife had some South American curios. There was a
funny wooden club there. The end was quite as heavy as any lead. I
caught hold of it and rushed in upon him. You see, Chetwode, I was
quite sure that he meant mischief. If Fenella had come in, he might
have hurt her."

"Exactly," Arnold agreed. "Go on, sir."

"Well, I gripped the club in my right hand," Mr. Weatherley
explained, seizing a ruler from the table, "like this, and I ran in
upon him. I took him rather by surprise--he hadn't expected anything
of the sort. He had one shot at me and missed. I felt the bullet go
scorching past my cheek--like this."

Mr. Weatherley struck the side of his face sharply with the flat of
his hand.

"He had another go at me but it was too late,--I was there upon him.
He held out his arm but I was too quick. I didn't seem to hit very
hard the first time but the club was heavy. His foot slipped on the
marble hearthstone and he went. He fell with a thud. Have you ever
killed a man, Chetwode?"

"Never, sir," Arnold answered, his voice shaking a little.

"Well, I never had before," M