"You damned hound--you let us go or you shall have this place about your ears!" The hall echoed the words which, to tell the truth, sounded very empty and theatrical. They were made to sound the more so by the quietness of Crispin's reply. "There is no need," he said, "for all those words, Mr. Dunbar. It is your own fault that you interfered and must pay for your interference. I warned you weeks ago not to annoy me. Unfortunately you wouldn't take advice. You _have_ annoyed me--sadly, and must suffer the consequences." "If you touch a hair of her head-----" Dunbar burst out. "As to my daughter-in-law," Crispin said, stepping down on to the floor, and suddenly smiling, "I can assure you that she is in the best possible hands. She knows that herself, I'm sure. What induced you, Hesther," he said, addressing her directly, "to climb out of your window like the heroine of a cinematograph and career about on the seashore with these two gentlemen is best known only to yourself. At least you saw the error of your ways and are in time, after all, to go abroad with us to-day." He advanced a step towards them. "And you, Mr. Harkness, don't you think that you have rather violated the decencies of hospitality? I think you will admit that I showed you nothing but courtesy as host. I invited you to dinner, then to my house, showed you my few poor things, and how have you repaid me? Is this the famous American courtesy? And may I ask while we are on the question, what business this was of yours?" "It was anybody's business," said Harkness firmly, "to rescue a helpless girl from such a house as this." "Indeed?" asked Crispin, "And what is the matter with this house?" Here Hesther broke in: "Look back two nights ago," she cried, "and ask yourself then what is the matter with this house and whether it is a place for a woman to remain in." "For myself," said Crispin. "I think it is a very nice house, and I am quite sorry that we are leaving it to-day. That is, some of us--not all," he added, softly. "If you are going to murder us," Dunbar cried, "get done with it. We don't fear you, you know, whatever colour your hair may be. But whether you murder us or no I can tell you one thing, that your own time has come--not many more hours of liberty for _you._" "All the more reason to make the most of those I _have_ got," said Crispin. "Murder you? No. But you have fallen in very opportunely for the testing of certain theories of mine. I look forward to a very interesting hour or two. It is now just four o'clock. We leave this house at eight--or, at least, some of us do. I can promise all of us a very interesting four hours with no time for sleep at all. I have no doubt you are all tired, wandering about in the fog for so long must be fatiguing, but I don't see any of you sleeping--not for an hour or two, at least."