The Sampayo complication was ended; and he would never dare to cross my path or hers again. If he did, the means of getting rid of him would still be available, so long as Prelot’s thirst for vengeance lasted. There was Vasco. I could not see at once what to do in regard to him. But Miralda and I could discuss his future with the viscontesse. Probably the best thing would be for him to throw up his commission and join us. He had been a fool and must pay for his folly. There was also Barosa. If Sampayo had spoken the truth about his love for Miralda, he would be mad with Inez for letting her go. It was all for the best, therefore, that he was not in the house. I might have found much more difficulty in getting Miralda away. Yet he could not have prevented me. The weapon I held was too strong. Not only his liberty and even his life were in my hands, but those of Inez and of every one associated with him in the plot. My silence was worth infinitely more than the price I asked. At the same time I was more than glad that I had had to deal with Inez instead of him. While I was occupied in these thoughts several minutes passed, and my impatience at Miralda’s delay in returning mounted fast and I began to grow uneasy. She had promised to be back almost at once; and had now been absent more than a quarter of as hour. I recalled the former suspicion which had led to my remaining in the hall, and reflected that it might be best to go down there again. Then the door opened and with a sigh of relief I turned to meet her. But instead of Miralda, it was Dr. Barosa who entered. CHAPTER XXVII DR. BAROSA SCORES Barosa was carrying a sheet or two of writing paper, and in the glance I caught of his profile as he shut the door carefully behind him, I noticed that his hard strong features were paler than usual. His set determined expression and manner were those of a man who knows he is face to face with a grave crisis. “You are surprised to see me, Mr. Donnington,” he said as he turned to me; and his voice, deep and vibrating, confirmed my diagnosis. “Yes, I am.” “Let me explain. The Contesse Inglesia has told me what has passed between you and that you desire to have a written statement from me concerning Mademoiselle Dominguez and her relations; and I thought it could be more conveniently drawn up at once.” “I am waiting for her to leave the house with me.” “I am aware of that. She will no doubt be here in a moment and can perhaps assist us in writing this. Will you tell me what you wish written?” “I have told the contesse; and you are quite able to do all I need,” I answered shortly. “You will understand how profoundly I myself am concerned by all this. My liberty, my life, and what is far more to me than my life, are at stake. You have ascertained all our plans, and I feel it imperative to ask what use you intend to make of anything you compel me to write.”