e is no coercion about my request. You may accept or
decline, just as you like. I admit that my wife and I do not get along
well together, and although I consider I have a grievance against you,
I am not assuming the injured husband _role_ at all. If you decline, I
shall make no scandal aboard ship, but will wait and take action against
you the moment we arrive in New York."

"Very considerate of you, Mr. Poole. I understand that in New York the
fountains of justice are perfectly pure, and that the wronged are
absolutely certain of obtaining redress. I congratulate you on your
choice of a battle-ground. Of course, you haven't the slightest thought
of levying blackmail, but I prefer to spend my money on the best legal
talent in America rather than trust any of it to you. It's a mere
case of obstinacy on my part. And now, if you will kindly take your
departure, I will get on with my book; I am at a most interesting
point."

"I shall not take my departure," said Poole doggedly, "until we have
settled this matter."

"The matter is settled." Stranleigh touched an electric button. An
inside door opened, and Ponderby entered, looking in amazement at his
master's visitor.

"Ponderby," said Lord Stranleigh, "in future I desire you to keep this
outer door locked, so that whoever wishes to see me may come through
your room. Take a good look at this gentleman, and remember he is not to
be allowed within my suite again on any pretext. Meanwhile, show him
into the corridor. Take him through your room, and afterwards return and
lock this other door."

Then occurred an extraordinary thing. Ponderby, for the first time in
his life, disobeyed his master's instructions. Approaching the seated
Poole, he said--

"Will you go quietly?"

"I'll not go, quietly or otherwise," answered the man stubbornly.

Ponderby opened the door by which Poole had entered, then, seizing him
by the collar, lifted him, led him to the door, and pitched him out of
the room across the corridor. Returning, he closed, locked, and bolted
the door.

"I beg your pardon, my lord," said the panting Ponderby to his amazed
master, "but I dare not take him through my room. His wife is there. She
appears to have followed him. Anyhow, she recognised his voice, and told
me hurriedly why she came. I locked the door to the passage, for, as I
heard her story, I felt it might be serious, and at least you ought to
hear what she has to say before you acted. I hope you wil