Amazement held me speechless for a moment; then I found my feet and blurted out some form of greeting; I can't be sure that we actually shook hands, but this was my house and he had come as a guest; I must observe the decencies. "Black Jack" had changed but little in the two years since I had seen him. Perhaps a trifle broader in girth, while the cleft between his sable eyebrows was deeper than ever. Apparently, he was quite at his ease, and I fancied that he took a furtive and malicious pleasure in my embarrassment. Now we were seated; I pushed the box of cigars to his hand, and waited, tongued-tied and flushing, for the conversational ice to be broken. "So we meet again, Cousin Hugh!" he began, with perfect aplomb. "You don't appear to be overjoyed." "Why should I be?" I retorted. "But I don't forget that you are under my roof. Naturally, I am somewhat surprised." "At my return, or because I am seeking you out at the 'Hundred?' Possibly, you have forgotten that I no longer possess even the apology of a shelter that was once 'Thane Court.'" "You can hardly hold me responsible for the fire," I said, feeling somewhat nettled at his tone. "Oh, surely not," he assented, flicking the ash from his cigar with an airy wave of his hand--that well remembered, big hand with its black-tufted knuckles. "As for the property, I bought it in at public sale to protect myself. You can have it back at any time for the price I paid. And no interest charges." "Very good of you, Cousin Hugh, and later on I may hold you to your offer. I may say that I am in quite the position to do so," he added with a boastful flourish. "Glad to hear it," I said shortly. And in my heart of hearts I did rejoice, for I had an acute realization of what this man's heritage in life might have been had Francis Graeme and I never met. Somehow the whole atmosphere of our foregathering had suddenly lightened, and I experienced a feeling of hospitality toward Thaneford which was certainly cordial and almost friendly. "By the way, have you dined?" I asked. "The cook has gone home, but I dare say Effingham could find some cold meat and a salad." "I had supper at the hotel in Calverton, but a drop or two of whiskey wouldn't go amiss. The prohibition lid is clamped down pretty tight around here." I rang for Effingham. "Bring a bottle of 'King William,'" I ordered. "Or perhaps you would prefer rye or bourbon?" "Scotch suits me right enough," he answered carelessly. He rose and began pacing the room. "I heard something in Calverton about your closing up the library," he said abruptly. "It was Mrs. Hildebrand's wish. You can understand that Miss Trevor's death was a great shock to her." Not a muscle in his face moved, but he stopped short in his tracks. "Eunice dead!" he ejaculated. "When and where?" "In June two years ago. She was found dead, sitting in the library."