He sought me out just before luncheon. I was in the courtyard, listening patiently to Jasper Jr.'s theories and suggestions concerning the restoration of the entire facade of the castle, and what he'd do if he were in my place. Strange to say, I was considerably entertained; he was not at all offensive; on the contrary, he offered his ideas in a pleasantly ingenuous way, always supplementing them with some such salve as: "Don't you think so, Mr. Smart?" or "I'm sure you have thought of it yourself," or "Isn't that your idea, too?" or "You've done wonders with the joint, old man." Colingraft came directly up to where we were standing. There was trouble in his eye. "See here, Mr. Smart," he began austerely. "I've got something to say to you, and I'm not the sort to put it off. I appreciate what you've done for Aline and all that sort of thing, but your manner to-day has been intolerable, and we've got to come to an understanding." I eyed him closely. "I suppose you're about to suggest that one or the other of us must--evacuate--get out, so to speak," said I. "Don't talk rubbish. You've got my mother bawling her eyes out upstairs, and wishing she were dead. You've got to come off this high horse of yours. You've got to apologise to her, and damned quick, at that. Understand?" "Nothing will give me greater joy than to offer her my most abject apology, Mr. Titus, unless it would be her unqualified forgiveness." "You'll have to withdraw everything you said." "I'll withdraw everything except my ultimatum in respect to her putting a foot outside these walls. That still stands." "I beg to differ with you." "You may beg till you're black in the face," said I coolly. He swallowed hard. His face twitched, and his hands were clenched. "You are pretty much of a mucker, Mr. Smart," he said, between his teeth. "I'm sorry my sister has fallen into your hands. The worst of it is, she seems satisfied with everything you do. Good Lord! What she can see in you is beyond my comprehension. Protection! Why you couldn't protect her from the assault of a chicken." "Are you trying to insult me, Mr. Titus?" "You couldn't resent it if I were. There never was an author with enough moral backbone to--" "Wait! You are her brother. I don't want to have trouble with you. But if you keep on in this strain, Mr. Titus, I shall be compelled to thresh you soundly." He fairly gasped. "Th--thresh me!" he choked out. Then he advanced. Much to his surprise--and, strangely enough, not to my own--I failed to retreat. Instead, I extended my left fist with considerable abruptness and precision and he landed on his back. I experienced a sensation of unholy joy. Up to that moment I had wondered whether I could do it with my left hand. I looked at Jasper, Jr. He was staring at me in utter bewilderment. "Good Lord! You--you've knocked him down!" "I didn't think I could do it," said I hazily. He sprang to his brother's side, and assisted him to a sitting posture.