It was exactly what he had wound himself up to expect; but his faith in his injured wife was so strong that, as he drew back, he could scarcely believe his eyes, and with a giddy feeling stealing over him, he stood staring wildly at the apparition that he had unveiled. The blood seemed to swell in a chilling flood to his heart, and for a few moments he could neither speak nor move. Then with an electric rush it seemed to dart again through every vein in his body, making his nerves tingle, and he flew at the man who had crept like a serpent into his Eden. "Devil!" he cried hoarsely; and he tried to seize his enemy by the throat. With a deft movement of the arms, though, Malpas struck his hands aside, caught them by the wrist, gave them a dexterous twist, and forced the other, stronger man though he was of the two, upon his knees. "Fool! idiot!" he said, in a low voice. "Do you wish to publish it all over Belgravia?" "You crawling, deceitful fiend!" cried Frank Morrison, making a savage effort to free himself, and succeeding so that he closed, and a sharp struggle ensued, which again went against the young husband. For his adversary was an adept in athletic exercises, and taking advantage of a low ottoman being behind, forced him backwards so suddenly that he fell, and in a moment was down with Malpas's hands in his necktie and a knee on his chest. "Are you mad?" he said, panting and trying to recover his breath; "what do you want?" "Your life, you crawling, lying villain," gasped Morrison. "Look here, Morrison, be a man of the world," said Malpas quietly. "So far, I don't suppose they have heard anything downstairs, so why make a scene? If you wish it, I'll meet you in Belgium; that is," he added, smiling, "if you consider that your honour has suffered." "You scoundrel!" panted Morrison. "You have blasted my home!" "Bah! don't go into high sentiment. Blasted your home? Hang it, man, talk sense! What did you care for your home? Where have you been to-night?" "Where I pleased," cried Morrison, with subdued rage in his eyes; but he lowered his voice. "Exactly, you had your little affair to attend to: why should not madame have her guest by way of solace, in the absence of so true and faithful a husband?" "You villain!" panted Morrison again, as he caught the wrists that held him down. "Villain, if you like to use such strong language, _mon cher_; but for heaven's sake be calm--be a man of the world! We don't live in the old, sentimental Darby-and-Joan days, my dear fellow, but in times when it is fashionable to follow one's own sweet will. You are like the dog in the manger: obstinate--selfish--brutal. Go to, my dear friend, and enjoy yourself, but let others live and enjoy themselves too." For answer Frank Morrison made a desperate struggle to rise, but he was quite helpless under the strong pressure of his opponent's knee.