“Is that it?” he went on, producing a yellow-looking letter and showing it to him. “I believe so—at least it looks like it.” “Then read the letter.” Edward obeyed. It was one written in answer to that of Harold Quaritch to his betrothed’s father, and admitted in the clearest terms the justice of the step that he had taken. Further, it begged him for the sake of Julia and the family at large, never to mention the cause of his defection to any one outside the family. “Are you satisfied, Mr. Cossey? I have other letters, if you wish to see them.” Edward made no reply, and the Colonel went on:—“I gave the promise your grandfather asked for, and in spite of the remarks that were freely made upon my behaviour, I kept it, as it was my duty to do. You, Mr. Cossey, are the first person to whom the story has been told. And now that you have thought fit to make accusations against me, which are without foundation, I must ask you to retract them as fully as you made them. I have prepared a letter which you will be so good as to sign,” and he handed him a note addressed to the Squire. It ran: “Dear Mr. de la Molle,— “I beg in the fullest and most ample manner possible to retract the charges which I made yesterday evening against Colonel Quaritch, in the presence of yourself and Miss de la Molle. I find that those charges were unfounded, and I hereby apologise to Colonel Quaritch for having made them.” “And supposing that I refuse to sign,” said Edward sulkily. “I do not think,” answered the Colonel, “that you will refuse.” Edward looked at Colonel Quaritch, and the Colonel looked at Edward. “Well,” said the Colonel, “please understand I mean that you should sign this letter, and, indeed, seeing how absolutely you are in the wrong, I do not think that you can hesitate to do so.” Then very slowly and unwillingly, Edward Cossey took up a pen, affixed his signature to the letter, blotted it, and pushed it from him. The Colonel folded it up, placed it in an envelope which he had ready, and put it in his pocket. “Now, Mr. Cossey,” he said, “I will wish you good-morning. Another time I should recommend you to be more careful, both of your facts and the manner of your accusations,” and with a slight bow he left the room. “Curse the fellow,” thought Edward to himself as the front door closed, “he had me there—I was forced to sign. Well, I will be even with him about Ida, at any rate. I will propose to her this very day, Belle or no Belle, and if she won’t have me I will call the money in and smash the whole thing up”—and his handsome face bore a very evil look, as he thought of it. That very afternoon he started in pursuance of this design, to pay a visit to the Castle. The Squire was out, but Miss de la Molle was at home. He was ushered into the drawing-room, where Ida was working, for it was a wet and windy afternoon. She rose to greet him coldly enough, and he sat down, and then came a pause which she did not seem inclined to break.