Graydon stopped as if stunned by a blow. Bobby Rigby came running to the head of the stairs, followed by Jane and another young woman. James Bansemer could not have been expected to know it, but Rigby and Miss Clegg had come to tell these friends that they were to be married in December. "Kill me, eh? Not if you can't do a better job than you did the other night. Here, you reporter, ask Mr. Cable to explain the mystery of that affair on the lake front. Oh, I know all about it! You've started in to ruin me, but I'll be in on it myself. We'll have a general cleaning up." "Father! What are you talking about?" cried Graydon, aghast. "They haven't told you about the lake front, eh? I should think not! See him cringe!" Cable had indeed fallen back against the wall, halfway up the steps, white and trembling. His eyes were raised, and he was the first to see Mrs. Cable as she came from her room. "Go back!" he whispered hoarsely to her. She reached the banister and leaned over, her eyes filling with terror after a swift glance at Jane. "Take Jane away," she murmured, realising that the blow was to fall. "I'll stop his infernal tongue!" shouted Cable, leaping down the steps, his eyes blazing. James Bansemer laughed as he braced himself for the shock. They did not come together, for Graydon threw his big frame in the path of the assailant. For an instant there was a frightful uproar. Rigby and the servant rushed to the young man's assistance. The women were screaming with terror, the men were shouting and there was a. violent struggle which played havoc in the hallway. "Call the police!" shouted Rigby. "You infernal traitor!" hissed James Bansemer. "You claim to be Graydon's friend, and yet you are the one who has led the plot to ruin me." "What does it all mean?" cried Graydon, holding; the shaking Cable tightly. There was a moment of intense silence, except for the heavy breathing of the men. Graydon was staring wide-eyed at his father. He saw the cruel, sardonic smile spread over his face and shuddered. "I've simply come to take you out of the clutches of these people. I've waited to see if that scheming woman, up there would tell you of her own accord. She hasn't told you; so I will. You cannot marry that girl, for your haughty Jane Cable is a child of shame, picked up on a doorstep, cast off by the woman who conceived her!" The crash had come. The heartless accuser stood like a tragic player in the centre of his stage, pouring out his poison without a touch of pity for the stricken girl who, after the first thrill of indignation and horror, had shrunk back into her mother's arms, bewildered. "Call the police, if you like," laughed Bansemer, at the end of his tirade. "It isn't a criminal offence to tell the truth. It will sound just as well in court, Mr. Rigby." "Jane, Jane," Mrs Cable was murmuring, "I might have saved you all this, but I couldn't--oh, I couldn't pay the price."