“Very good. Then you come to me and tell me that I must not do as I please with regard to Sampayo. You call it persecution. I apply that term to Mademoiselle Dominguez’ treatment. Cease that, give her back her freedom of action, and I’ve done with Sampayo. He can stop here or go to the devil for all I care.” “I have told you it is not possible, Mr. Donnington,” he said firmly. “You mean that you, for motives personal to yourself, will not permit it.” “You have no reason to draw any such inference.” “Well, I do draw it, and shall continue to believe it and act upon it until I learn it is wrong.” “I tell you it is wrong, wholly wrong and preposterous.” I looked at him with a purposely aggravating smile and shook my head. “As a matter of fact, I know,” I said. Pure bluff this, of course, but useful. He paled with anger and his eyes flashed again. “You wish to insult me,” he said between his teeth. “I should not regard it as an insult if you suggested that I admired a very beautiful woman, but if I got as angry as you are, you would conclude that you were right.” He sprang up. “Then you intend to disregard my warning and set us all at defiance,” he cried, beside himself with rage. “Are you threatening me?” “Take it as you will, sir.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I knew he was the agent of the Pretender and reply to his threat with one to denounce him to Volheno. But I checked myself. “You understand I shan’t take it lying down. I shall hit back. And now I think we are at the end of this stage of the affair,” I said; and he left me. It was evidently a fight to be with the gloves off, and I might look for trouble without any fear of being disappointed. But I should be on my guard. I had gained more than a warning by the interview, however. I had learnt the secret which had been in the background. Barosa was in love with Miralda; and Sampayo was only the stalking-horse to keep other men away until he could declare himself. I could not resist a smile at his dilemma. He could not do anything at present without changing Inez from friend to enemy and I saw how this interesting embarrassment could be turned to excellent account with her. But the axis of things was shifted. It was not Sampayo who had so tortuously woven the web which had entangled Miralda. It was Barosa himself. And then came the question why Sampayo had been so pliant a tool in his hands and so frightened of him. There was one probable answer to that--that Barosa knew what I knew about that South African villainy. Vasco arrived when I was turning over the problem. I told him that I had obtained his confession from Sampayo and that the latter would not trouble him any more; and he thanked me profusely, making earnest protestations that he would never touch a card or a dicebox again as long as he lived. Men generally make resolutions of that sort at such a moment, of course. He told me how much he owed to his fellow-officers, and I gave him the amount.