“I’m not so sure of that, my reverend friend. But of one thing I am sure, that I am freed from her also, or rather that she is freed from me. Also you are freed from him. Don’t you understand, you vicious little viper, that you will never see that young man again, and that thanks to your cursed advice I shall never see my daughter again, at least not really? What devil was it that sent you to play upon my weaknesses and ambition? If you had left things alone and they had come to me in a natural way there would have been a row, of course, but I dare say it would have ended all right. But you told me how to work on him and I overdid the part. Now nothing can ever be all right for either of us, or for them either, until we are both dead. Do you understand also that we have made two young people who should have been the supports of our old age desire above everything our deaths because we have given them cause to hate us, and since they are of the sort that keep their word, only by our deaths can they become free, or, at any rate, by mine? Well, it doesn’t matter what you understand, you little bigot, but I know what I do.” “I have done my duty,” repeated Mr. Knight sullenly, “and I don’t care what happens afterwards. ‘_Fiat justitia ruat coelum_,’” he added in the Latin tag. “Oh, yes. Justice may say fie and the sky may be rude, and anything else may happen, but we’ve dished our lives and theirs, my friend, and—damn you! get out of my sight. Rows I am accustomed to with Isobel and others, but this isn’t a row, it’s an earthquake; it’s a catastrophe, for which I have to thank you. Lord! how my mouth hurts, and I can’t see out of my right eye. Talk of a mailed fist, that young beggar has one like a pole-axe. Now I must go to telegraph to all those people. Temporary indisposition, yes—temporary indisposition, that’s it. Good-bye, my holy friend. You won’t do as much mischief in one day again in a hurry, spy as hard as you like.” Then Sir John departed, nursing his cut lips with one hand and his broken umbrella with the other. Mr. Knight watched him go, and said to himself: “I thought that I disliked the daughter, but the father is worse. Offensive, purse-proud, vulgar beast! How dare he speak to me like that! I’m glad, yes, I’m glad Godfrey knocked him down, though I suppose there will be a scandal. Well, my hands are clean; I have done my duty, and I must not complain if it is unpleasant, since I have dragged Godfrey back from the mouth of the pit. I think I’ll take a walk to steady my nerves; it may be as well not to meet Godfrey again just now.” CHAPTER XVII INDIA