"You will obtain no explanation from me, sir; you can apply to Mrs. Penn herself if you require one. I am disgusted at the wickedness, the false deception of the whole affair, and will not condescend to recur to it. You are not welcome in this house, Mr. Edwin Barley, and I must request you to quit it. I cannot conceive how you could have dared to come here." "The explanation, sir," persisted Mr. Edwin Barley. "Fine words will not enable you to evade it." He spoke as though he really required the explanation. Sir Harry did not understand, and a few sharp words passed on either side. Both were labouring under a mistake. Sir Harry assumed that all Mrs. Penn had done in the house had been under the express direction of Mr. Edwin Barley. Mr. Edwin Barley, on his side, was not aware that she had done anything wrong. They were at cross-purposes, and at that angry moment did not arrive at straight ones. "Treachery?" echoed Mr. Edwin Barley, in answer to a word dropped by Sir Harry. "The police will soon be in charge of one, guilty of something worse than treachery. A criminal lying under the ban of the law is not far off." "You allude to my brother, Mr. Edwin Barley. True. He is lying not far-off—very near." The quiet words—for Sir Harry's voice had dropped to a strange calmness—took Edwin Barley by surprise. In this ready avowal, could it be that he foresaw fear to doubt that George Heneage had already again made his escape? Drawing aside the white blind, he saw one of the police officers under the trees opposite; the other of course being at the back of the house. And it reassured him. Never more could George Heneage escape him. "Your brother shall not elude me, Mr. Chandos. I swear it. I have waited for years—for years Harry Chandos—to catch him upon English ground. That he is on it now, I know. I know that you have him in hiding: here in the west wing of your house. Will you resign him peacefully to the two men I have outside? Revengeful though you may deem me, I would rather spare disturbance to your mother. The fact of his apprehension cannot be concealed from her: that is impossible; but I would spare her as far as I can, and I would have wished to see her to tell her this. If you do not give him up quietly, the policemen must come in." "I think—to save you and the police useless trouble—you had better pay a personal visit to my brother," said Sir Harry. "You have rightly said that he has been in hiding in the west wing; he is there still." "Your brother!—George!" exclaimed Mr. Edwin Barley, quite taken aback by the invitation, and suspecting some trick. "My brother George," was the quiet answer. "Did you think I was speaking of Sir Thomas? He, poor fellow, is no longer in existence." "As I hear: and I am sorry for it. Your servant wished to assure me that you had succeeded to the honours; he calls you 'Sir Harry.' I told him better," concluded Mr. Edwin Barley, with a cough that said much.