"Well, Mr. Poole, we come to what is the final question--how much?" "If you give me the roll of Bank of England notes which you exhibited a moment ago, I shall say nothing further about the matter, and, understand me, there is no coercion about my request. You may accept or decline, just as you like. I admit that my wife and I do not get along well together, and although I consider I have a grievance against you, I am not assuming the injured husband _rôle_ at all. If you decline, I shall make no scandal aboard ship, but will wait and take action against you the moment we arrive in New York." "Very considerate of you, Mr. Poole. I understand that in New York the fountains of justice are perfectly pure, and that the wronged are absolutely certain of obtaining redress. I congratulate you on your choice of a battle-ground. Of course, you haven't the slightest thought of levying blackmail, but I prefer to spend my money on the best legal talent in America rather than trust any of it to you. It's a mere case of obstinacy on my part. And now, if you will kindly take your departure, I will get on with my book; I am at a most interesting point." "I shall not take my departure," said Poole doggedly, "until we have settled this matter." "The matter is settled." Stranleigh touched an electric button. An inside door opened, and Ponderby entered, looking in amazement at his master's visitor. "Ponderby," said Lord Stranleigh, "in future I desire you to keep this outer door locked, so that whoever wishes to see me may come through your room. Take a good look at this gentleman, and remember he is not to be allowed within my suite again on any pretext. Meanwhile, show him into the corridor. Take him through your room, and afterwards return and lock this other door." Then occurred an extraordinary thing. Ponderby, for the first time in his life, disobeyed his master's instructions. Approaching the seated Poole, he said-- "Will you go quietly?" "I'll not go, quietly or otherwise," answered the man stubbornly. Ponderby opened the door by which Poole had entered, then, seizing him by the collar, lifted him, led him to the door, and pitched him out of the room across the corridor. Returning, he closed, locked, and bolted the door. "I beg your pardon, my lord," said the panting Ponderby to his amazed master, "but I dare not take him through my room. His wife is there. She appears to have followed him. Anyhow, she recognised his voice, and told me hurriedly why she came. I locked the door to the passage, for, as I heard her story, I felt it might be serious, and at least you ought to hear what she has to say before you acted. I hope you will excuse the liberty I have taken, my lord." "Ponderby, as I have often told you, you are a gem! I will go into your room, but you must remain there while I talk to this lady. No more _tête-à-tête_ conversations with the unprotected for me." "I think she is honest, my lord, but in deep trouble."