he
lane, or to the letter which I still had in my hand. This ominous
discretion helped to convince me that he must have surprised, by the
most dishonourable means, the secret of my application in Laura's
interest to the lawyer; and that, having now assured himself of the
private manner in which I had received the answer, he had discovered
enough to suit his purposes, and was only bent on trying to quiet the
suspicions which he knew he must have aroused in my mind. I was wise
enough, under these circumstances, not to attempt to deceive him by
plausible explanations, and woman enough, notwithstanding my dread of
him, to feel as if my hand was tainted by resting on his arm.

On the drive in front of the house we met the dog-cart being taken
round to the stables. Sir Percival had just returned. He came out to
meet us at the house-door. Whatever other results his journey might
have had, it had not ended in softening his savage temper.

"Oh! here are two of you come back," he said, with a lowering face.
"What is the meaning of the house being deserted in this way? Where is
Lady Glyde?"

I told him of the loss of the brooch, and said that Laura had gone into
the plantation to look for it.

"Brooch or no brooch," he growled sulkily, "I recommend her not to
forget her appointment in the library this afternoon. I shall expect
to see her in half an hour."

I took my hand from the Count's arm, and slowly ascended the steps. He
honoured me with one of his magnificent bows, and then addressed
himself gaily to the scowling master of the house.

"Tell me, Percival," he said, "have you had a pleasant drive? And has
your pretty shining Brown Molly come back at all tired?"

"Brown Molly be hanged--and the drive too! I want my lunch."

"And I want five minutes' talk with you, Percival, first," returned the
Count. "Five minutes' talk, my friend, here on the grass."

"What about?"

"About business that very much concerns you."

I lingered long enough in passing through the hall-door to hear this
question and answer, and to see Sir Percival thrust his hands into his
pockets in sullen hesitation.

"If you want to badger me with any more of your infernal scruples," he
said, "I for one won't hear them. I want my lunch."

"Come out here and speak to me," repeated the Count, still perfectly
uninfluenced by the rudest speech that his friend could make to him.

Sir Percival descended the steps. The Count took him by the ar