Christopher nodded. "Yes, I'll go by mail to-night." Then he shut his teeth sharply and looked out of the window with a frown, thinking of the renewed battle of wills to come, and at last said he would go and find Mr. Masters, since no one appeared to have told him of Nevil's arrival. He went straight down the corridor to Peter Masters' room. The owner was still seated as he had left him, smoking placidly. "Changed your mind already?" he asked as his guest entered. "No, not that, but Nevil Aston has come and I must go back with him by the mail to-night." "What's up?" The big man sprang to his feet. "Is Aymer ill?" "No, no. I don't think so. It may be Nevil's fancy. He thinks Aymer wants me back. Of course it sounds absurd, but Nevil, who won't stir beyond the garden on his own account, has come all this way to fetch me to Caesar." Peter Masters was half-way to the door and tossed a question over his shoulder curtly. "Where is he?" "In the little reception-room." Christopher followed him down the passage puzzling over this unexpected behaviour. Nevil was re-exploring the inaccurate picture with patient sorrow and despair. He hardly turned as they entered. "How do you do, Peter," he said unenthusiastically, "why do you buy pictures like that by men who don't even know the subject they are painting?" "I'll burn it to-morrow. What's the matter with Aymer, Nevil?" Nevil looked reproachfully at Christopher. "Nothing is the matter, as I told Christopher, only I'd a man to see at Leamington and thought I could get a fellow victim here for the journey home." "I'll meet you in London on Monday," put in the fellow victim quietly to Mr. Masters. Peter looked from one to the other, lastly he looked long at Christopher and Christopher looked at him. Nothing short of the revelation Peter was as yet unprepared to make would stop Christopher from going to Aymer Aston that night he knew, and if he let the boy go back with the truth untold, it would be forever untold--by _him_. That it _was_ the Truth was a conviction now. There was no space left for a shadow of mistrust in his mind. "If you go by the mail we'd better dine at eight sharp," he said abruptly. "I want to see you, Christopher, before you go, in my room." He turned towards the door, adding as an afterthought, "You must look after Nevil till I am free." Nevil gave a gentle sigh of satisfaction as the door closed. Christopher laughed. The relief was so unexpected, so astounding. "We'll have some tea in the orangery," he said after a moment's consideration. "You may not like the statuary, but the orange trees at least offer no anachronisms."