"There was no open misunderstanding, but I know there was mutual dislike. Philip saw that Davlin was making systematic efforts to win money from the party, and had therefore persuaded one or two of his friends to give gaming little countenance. No doubt he kept money out of the man's pocket." "And what was the standing of that man and the victim, this Percy?" "They were much together, and Philip tells me he had sometimes fancied that Davlin held some power over Percy. Davlin had won largely from him, and the man seemed much annoyed, but paid over the money without demur." "And now, how did your husband stand toward the injured man?" "That is the worst part of the story. They had had high words only that very day. Philip had been acquainted with Percy at school, and he knew so much that was not in his favor, that he was unable to conceal his real opinion of the man at all times. One day high words arose, and Philip uttered a threat, which was misconstrued, after the attack upon Percy. They said he threatened his life. But Percy knew that only his honor was meant. Davlin knew this, too; must have known it, for he was aware that the two had met before they came together with the party." "I can not see why Lucian Davlin should be your husband's enemy." "I can understand that he hated Philip for the same reason that a thief hates the light, and Philip had balked his plans." "True; and yet--" "And yet?" inquiringly. "Bad as the man is, I can see but one motive that could induce even him to swear away the liberty, almost the life, of a man who never wronged him." "Still, he did it," said Olive, with a weary sigh. "True; and he did it for a motive." "And that motive--" "Was the strongest instinct of the human race." "What?" eagerly. "Self-preservation." Olive started up with a half cry. "Madeline, in heaven's name, _what_ do you mean!" "That Lucian Davlin threw suspicion upon the innocent to screen the guilty," said the girl, in a low, firm tone. "And the guilty one, then?" "Himself. Do you think him too good for it?" sneeringly. "No, no! oh, no! But this I had never thought of--yet it may be true." She fell into deep thought; after a time she started up. "I must consult a detective immediately," she said. "You must do no such thing," cried Madeline, springing to her feet; "why did not the detectives find this out before? Because they have not my reasons for hunting that man down. _I_ found this clue, if it be one. I claim it; it is my right, and I will have it. If he is to be undone, it shall be by my hands. I swear it!" They faced each other in silence. Slowly Olive recalled to her countenance and voice its usual sweet calm, and then seated herself and talked long and earnestly with Madeline. The little bronze clock on the mantel was on the stroke of two when the conference ended, and Madeline retired to her own room, but not to sleep. She sat and thought until the dawn shone in at her window.