Exerting all her strength, she tried to wrench herself free. "Let me go—you are hurting me!" Her voice rose shrilly. Despard lost his temper. "Very well—if you’ll swear to be here to-morrow by nine o’clock!" "I swear!" she cried eagerly. "And give me back that piece of paper—my statement. If I have it in my possession it will help you to remember your promise." Ruby ceased struggling and put her hands up to his face caressingly. "Don’t you trust me, Bob?" "I don’t!" he grinned, and as he spoke he caught the neck of her blouse with one hand and with the other tried to snatch the folded sheet of paper hidden there. Ruby staggered back, and clenching her fists, hit him in the face. Her cheeks burned with shame and indignation. "You coward! How dare you! I hate you!" She backed towards the door as she spoke. "I shan’t come to you to-morrow, but I shall take your statement straight to my solicitors, who will show it to the police. You thought I would sell myself to you—you of all men in the world!" She flung open the door and ran across the hall. Before she could escape Despard overtook her and seized her left arm. As he swung her round her right hand slipped into the pocket of her coat. She whipped out a tiny revolver and pointed it into his face: "Let me go, or I’ll fire!" Instinctively he stepped back. Then, as he recovered from his surprise he laughed: "You little devil! So that’s the stuff you’re made of. Well, I like it. Put that toy away and come back immediately. If you don’t I’ll take that paper from you if I have to tear the clothes off your back." "If you touch me, I’ll shoot you!" she cried between her teeth. As she spoke Despard jumped forward and hit up her arm. But she kept a tight grip on the revolver. He tried to snatch it from her. They struggled. "Let me go, or I’ll shoot!" she panted. "I warn you! I’ll kill you!" Neither of them heard footsteps outside, nor the ringing of the front-door bell. Despard seized the hand which held the revolver and slowly forced it back. A faint cry of agony escaped Ruby as she felt her wrist twisting. Suddenly there was a sharp report. The revolver rattled to the ground. Ruby ceased struggling, twirled round, then fell in a heap at Despard’s feet. The front-door bell rang again. There was a loud knocking. Despard stood staring at the limp body at his feet. Then he knelt down and seized Ruby’s hands—spoke to her. He felt for her heart—and his fingers touched something warm and wet. There were voices outside shouting for admittance. He rose to his feet and gazed round. There was no help for it—he would have to open the door. He did so. "Quick—there has been an accident!" His voice rattled in his throat as he found himself face to face with a tall, bronzed, bearded man—a man he did not recognise, yet whose features caused a thrill of fear in his heart. "An accident!" he mumbled thickly. "Are you—who are you?"