"Think you understand, don't you?" sneered André. She laughed shortly. "You've got a lot to learn yet. First of all, my friend, this isn't a park. It's a temple. The very place you're standing on is holy ground. And those clowns you're sacking are priests--sworn to moil and toil for Gramarye until she's sucked the brains out of their heads. And you're spoiling her game ... I should go carefully, if I were you, my friend. And if you get safe out of her to-day, I shouldn't come back--_if you can help it_... I don't want to be rude, but she's brought down bigger game than you--far bigger.... And they were her _favourites_." "I'm not afraid," said Every. "Of course you aren't. If you were, you'd be safe. If Samson had feared Delilah, he wouldn't have lost his eyes." She broke off and shrugged her shoulders. Then--"And now, if you're satisfied with my authority to question you, what's yours for dismissing these men?" "I have none," said Every. "But the chap who was here--Lyveden----" "Yes?" breathed André. "Well, he's too ill to----" With a moan, the girl dropped the reins, flung back her head, and clapped her hands to her temples. "I knew it," she wailed, "I knew it! First Richard Winchester, and then Anthony ... my darling ... Anthony Lyveden ..." Every stood spellbound. The tragedy had taken a new--a frightful turn. Valerie--trustful, unsuspecting Valerie--was hideously involved. He wondered if Lyveden delirious would babble of this strange girl. If he did.... And when he recovered--what then? Hurriedly he reviewed the position. Under Dr. Heron's direction, Lyveden had been drugged here, at Gramarye, and brought to Bell Hammer. The whole object of his removal was to smash his infatuation for Gramarye, so that he might feel free to worship Valerie. On their joint love the whole thing was founded. Everything had been arranged on that basis. And now ... if Lyveden had been consulted, perhaps he would not have come--not because of Gramarye, but because of a girl--a girl with auburn hair.... "Where is he?" The words cut his reflections with a clean slash. "Who?" André Strongi'th'arm's eyes narrowed. "The high priest," she said. "D'you mean Major Lyveden?" "I do." Every paled. Whatever might be the other's standing, with him Valerie came first. It might be rough on the girl, but that could not be helped, and would eventually, he supposed, be mended. One thing was plain. Not at any price must she go to Bell Hammer. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you." "Why?" "If you're thinking of visiting him, I assure you----" "I wish to know where Major Lyveden is." Every drew himself up. "I'm very sorry," he said, "but until I've seen those in charge of him, and have their permission to tell you----" "I have a right to know." Every winced. Then he looked up boldly. "As Colonel Winchester's _fiancée_?" he said. André caught her breath. Then she bowed her head.