Ten minutes later they went down the dripping avenue in the squire's little car. The drifting fog made an inky blackness of the night, and progress was very slow under the trees.

"We should be quicker walking," said Dick impatiently.

"It'll be better when we reach the open road," said Fielding, frowning at the darkness.

The light at the lodge-gates flung a wide glare through the mist, and he steered for it with more assurance. They passed through and turned into the road.

And here the squire pulled up with a jerk, for immediately in front of them another light shone.

"What the devil is that, Dick?"

"It's another car," said Dick and jumped out. "Hullo, there! Anything the matter?" he called.

"Damnation, yes!" answered a voice. "I've run into this infernal wall and damaged my radiator. Lost my mascot, too, damn it! Sort of thing that always happens when you're in a hurry."

"Who is it?" said Dick sharply.

He was standing almost touching the car, but he could not see the speaker who seemed to be bent and hunting for something on the ground.

A sound that was curiously like a chuckle answered him out of the darkness, but no reply came in words.

Dick stood motionless. "Saltash!" he said incredulously. "Is it Saltash?"

"Why shouldn't it be Saltash?" said a voice that laughed. "Thank you, Romeo? Come and help me out of this damn fix! Oh, I'm fed up with playing benevolent fool. It gives me indigestion. Curse this fog! Afraid I've knocked a few chips off your beastly wall. Ah! Here's the mascot! Now perhaps my infernal luck will turn! What are you keeping so quiet about? Aren't you pleased to see me? Not that you can—but that's a detail."

"Are you—alone?" Dick said, an odd tremor in his voice.

"Of course I'm alone! What did you expect? No, no, my Romeo, I may be a fool, but I'm not quite such a three-times-distilled imbecile as that amounts to. Have you got a gun there?"

"No!" Dick's voice sounded half-strangled, as though he fought against some oppression that threatened to overwhelm him. "What have you come back for? Tell me that!"

"I'll tell you anything you like," said Saltash generously; "including what I think of you, if you will help me to shove this thing into a more convenient locality and then take me in and give me a drink."

"You'd better get the car up the drive here," came Fielding's voice out of the darkness. "You can see more or less what you're doing under the lamp. Wait while I get my own out of the way!"

"Excellent!" said Saltash. "I'm immensely grateful to you, sir, for not smashing me up. What, Romeo? Did I hear you say you wished he had? I didn't? Then I must have sensed battle, murder and sudden death in your silence."

But whatever Dick's silence expressed he refused stubbornly to break it. When the squire had manoeuvred his car out of the way, he lent his help to pushing Saltash's across the road and up the drive into safety, but he did not utter a single word throughout the performance.

"A thousand thanks!" gibed Saltash. "Now for the great reckoning! I say, you will give me a drink, won't you, before you send me to my account? The villain always has a drink first. He's entitled to that, at least."

Again Fielding's voice came through Dick's silence. "Yes, come up to the schoolhouse!" he said. "We can't talk here. Have you got the key, Dick? Ah, that's right."

He found Dick and thrust a hand through his arm, leading him, stiffly unresponsive, across the road.

At the gate Dick stopped and spoke. "Let him go in front!" he said.

"With pleasure," laughed Saltash. "I'm lucky to have met you here. I was wondering how I should manage to break in."

He went up the path before them with his careless tread, and waited whistling while Dick opened the door.

The lamp in the little hall was burning low, but it shone upon his ugly face as he entered, and showed him the only one of the three who felt at ease. With royal assurance he turned to Dick.

"Well? Have you got a table and pistols for two? Great Scott, man! You look like a death-mask! Come along and let's get it over! Then perhaps you'll feel better."

Dick stood upright by Fielding's side, listening to the taunting words with a face that was indeed like a death-mask—save for the eyes that glowed vividly, terribly, with something of a tigerish glare.

He spoke at last with deadly quietness through lips that did not seem to move. "Where have you taken my wife?"

"Oh, she's quite safe," said Saltash; and smiled with a fox-like flash of teeth. "I am taking every care of her. You need have no anxiety about that."

"I asked—where you had taken her," Dick said, his words low and distinct, wholly without emotion.

Saltash's odd eyes began to gleam. "I heard you, mon ami. But since the lady is under my protection at the present moment, I am not prepared to answer that question off-hand—or even at all, until I am satisfied as to the kindness—or otherwise—of your intentions. When I give my protection to anyone—I give it."

"Is that what you came back to say?" said Dick, still without stirring hand or feature.

"By no means," said Saltash airily. "I didn't come to see you at all. I came—to fetch Columbus!"

He turned with the words, hearing a low whine at the door behind him, and opening it released the dog who ran out with eager searching. Saltash stooped to fondle him.

Something that was like an electric thrill went through Dick. He took a sudden step forward.

"Damn you!" he said, and gripped Saltash by the collar. "Tell me where she is! Do you hear? Tell me!"

Saltash straightened himself with a lightning movement. They looked into each other's eyes for several tense seconds. Then, though no word has passed between them, Dick's hand fell.

"That's better," said Saltash. "You're getting quite civil. Look here, my bully boy! I'll tell you something—and you'd better listen carefully, for there's a hidden meaning to it. You're the biggest ass that ever trod this earth. There!"

He put up a hand to his crumpled collar and straightened it, still with his eyes upon Dick's face.

"Got that?" he asked abruptly. "Well, then, I'll tell you something else. I've got a revolver in my pocket. I put it there in case the miners needed any persuasion, but you shall have it to shoot me with—and no doubt Mr. Fielding will kindly turn his back while you do it—if you will answer—honestly—one question I should like to put to you first. Is it a deal?"

Dick was breathing quickly. He stood close to Saltash, urged by a deadly enmity and still on the verge of violence, but restrained by something about the other man's attitude that he could not have defined.

"Well?" he said curtly at length. "What do you want to know?"

Saltash's lips twisted in a faintly sardonic smile. "Just one thing," he said. "Don't speak in a hurry, for a good deal depends upon it! If some kind friend—like myself for instance—had come to you, say, the night before your wedding and told you that you were about to marry Lady Jo Farringmore, would you have gone ahead with it—or not?"

He asked the question with a certain wariness, as a player who stakes more on a move than he would care to lose. The glint of the gambler shone in his curious eyes. His right hand was thrust into his pocket.

Fielding was watching that right hand narrowly, but Dick's look, grim and unwavering, never left his opponent's face.

"Why do you want to know?" he demanded.

Saltash's smile deepened, became a grimace, and vanished.

"I will tell you when you have answered me," he said. "But whatever you say will be used against you,—mind that!"

"What do you mean?" Dick said.

"Never mind what I mean! Just answer me! Answer me now! Would you have married her under those circumstances? Or would you—have thrown her over—to me?"

Dick's eyes blazed. "You damn blackguard! Of course I should have married her!"

"You are sure of that?" Saltash said.

"Damn you—yes!" With terrific force Dick answered him. He stood like an animal ready to spring, goaded to the end of his endurance, yet waiting—waiting for something, he knew not what.

If Saltash had smiled then he would have been upon him in an instant. But Saltash did not smile. He knew the exact value of the situation, and he handled it with a sure touch. With absolute gravity he took his hand from his pocket.

Fielding took a swift step forward, but with an odd twist of the brows Saltash reassured him. He held out a revolver to Dick on the palm of his hand.

"Here you are!" he said. "It's fully loaded. If you want to shoot a friend, you'll never have a better chance. Mr. Fielding, will you kindly look the other way?"

Dead silence followed his words. The lamplight flickered on Dick's face, throwing into strong relief every set grim feature. His lips were tightly compressed—a single straight line across his stern face. His eyes never varied; they were almost unbearably bright. They held Saltash's with a tensity of purpose that was greater than any display of physical force. It was as if the two were locked in silent combat.

It lasted for many seconds, that mute and motionless duel, then very suddenly from a wholly unexpected quarter there came an interruption. Columbus, sensing trouble, pushed his stout person between the two men and leapt whining upon Dick, pawing at him imploringly with almost human entreaty.

It put an end to the tension. Dick looked down involuntarily and meeting the dog's beseeching eyes, relaxed in spite of himself. Saltash uttered a curt laugh and returned the revolver to his pocket.

"That settles that," he observed. "Columbus, my acknowledgments—though I am quite well aware that your eloquent appeal is not made on my behalf! You know what the little beggar is asking for, don't you?"

Dick laid a soothing hand on the grizzled head. "All right,
Columbus!" he said.

Saltash's smile leapt out again. "Oh, it's all right, is it? I am to have a free pardon then for boosting you over your last fence?"

Again Dick's eyes came to him, and a very faint, remote smile shone in them for an instant in answer. Then, very steadily, without a word, he held out his hand.

Saltash's came to meet it. They looked each other again in the eyes—but with a difference. Then Saltash began to laugh.

"Go to her, my cavalier! You'll find her—waiting—on the Night Moth."

"Waiting?" Dick said.

"For Columbus," said Saltash with his most derisive grin, and tossed
Dick's hand away.