"You were not wrong," she answered. "It is only because you are very kind that you want me to believe it. But I see the truth quite clearly"; and she smiled at him. "If you wanted me to believe, you should never have told me of the law, a year ago in the Chalet de Lognan. My father obeyed the law--that was all. You know it as well as I. He had no time to think; he acted upon the instinct of the moment; he could not do otherwise. Had there been time to think, would he have reached out his hand? We both know that he would not. But he obeyed the law. What he knew, that he did, obeying the law upon the moment. He could save, and knowing it he _did_ save, even against his will." Chayne did not argue the point. Sylvia saw the truth too clearly. "Walter Hine is getting well," he said. "Your father is still at another hotel in Courmayeur. There's the future to be considered." "Yes," she said, and she waited. "I have asked your father to come over to-night after dinner," said Chayne. And into their private sitting-room Garratt Skinner entered at eight o'clock that evening. It was the first time that Sylvia had seen him since she had learned the whole truth, and she found the occasion one of trial. But Garratt Skinner carried it off. There was nothing of the penitent in his manner, but on the other hand he no longer affected the manner of a pained and loving parent. He greeted her from the door, and congratulated her quietly and simply upon her marriage. Then he turned to Chayne. "You wished to speak to me? I am at your service." "Yes," replied Chayne. "We--and I speak for Sylvia--we wish to suggest to you that your acquaintanceship with Walter Hine should end altogether--that it should already have ended." "Really!" said Garratt Skinner, with an air of surprise. "Captain Chayne, the laws of England, revolutionary as they have no doubt become to old-fashioned people like myself, have not yet placed fathers under the guardianship of their sons-in-law. I cannot accept your suggestion." "We insist upon its acceptance," said Chayne, quietly. Garratt Skinner smiled. "Insist perhaps! But how enforce it, my friend? That's another matter." "I think we have the means to do that," said Chayne. "We can point out to Walter Hine, for instance, that your ascent from the Brenva Glacier was an attempt to murder him." "An ugly word, Captain Chayne. You would find it difficult of proof." "The story is fairly complete," returned Chayne. "There is first of all a telegram from Mr. Jarvice couched in curious language." Garratt Skinner's face lost its smile of amusement. "Indeed?" he said. He was plainly disconcerted. "Yes." Chayne produced the telegram from his letter case, read it aloud with his eyes upon Garratt Skinner, and replaced it. "'What are you waiting for? Hurry up! Jarvice.' There is no need at all events to ask Mr. Jarvice what he was waiting for, is there? He wanted to lay his hands upon the money for which Hine's life was insured."