"I saw no thief; there has been no thief in the house that I know of; I tell you I slipped--and it startled me," retorted the captain, his tones becoming savage. "Then--why did you have the door bolted, captain?" struck in Miss Stella Featherston, who was extremely practical and matter-of-fact, and who could not understand the scene at all. This time the captain glared at _her_. Only for a moment; a sickly smile then stole over his countenance. "Somebody here talked about a thief: I said bolt him out," answered he. With this general explanation they had to be contented; but to none of them did it sound natural or straightforward. Order was restored. The ladies took a glass of wine each and some of the gâteau, which Flore handed round. Charles Palliser said good-night and departed with his book. Captain Fennel went out at the same time. He turned into the café on the Place Ronde, and drank three small glasses of cognac in succession. "Nancy, what did you mean by talking about a thief?" began Madame Carimon, the whole thing much exercising her mind. Upon which, Mrs. Fennel treated them all, including Flore, to an elaborate account of her husband's fright on the Sunday night. "It was on the stairs; just as it was again now," she said. "He thought he heard some one following behind him as he came up to bed. He fancied it was Flore; but Flore had left hours before. I never saw any one show such terror in all my life. He said it was Flore behind him to-night, and you saw how terrified he was." "But if he took it to be Flore, why should he be frightened?" returned Mary Carimon. "Pardon, mesdames, but it is the same argument I made bold to use to madame," interposed Flore from the background, where she stood. "There is not anything in me to give people fright." "I--think--it must have been," said Mrs. Fennel, speaking slowly, "that he grew alarmed when he found it was not Flore he saw. Both times." "Then who was it that he did see--to startle him like that?" asked Mary Carimon. "Why, he must have thought it was a thief," replied Nancy. "There's nothing else for it." At this juncture the argument was brought to a close by the entrance of Monsieur Jules Carimon, who had come to escort his wife and Stella Featherston home. These curious attacks of terror were repeated; not often, but at a few days' interval; so that at length Captain Fennel took care not to go about the house alone in the dark. He went up to bed when his wife did; he would not go to the door, if a ring came after Flore's departure, without a light in his hand. By-and-by he improvised a lamp, which he kept on the slab.