"Prosaic instruments," smiled Carrington. "I won't tell you more for fear the gamble doesn't come off." "Like the sensation before one proposes, I suppose," said Ned. "Well, going by that, the omens ought to be all right." They turned in through Simon's gates and then the four stopped. "We part here," whispered Carrington. "Good luck!" "Same to you," said Ned briefly, and strode up the drive. As he came out into the gravel sweep before the house, he looked hard into the darkness of the garden, but beyond the tossing shapes of trees, there was not a sign of movement. "Mr. Rattar in?" he enquired. "Sitting in the library I suppose? Take me right to him. Cromarty's my name." "Mr. Cromarty to see you, sir," announced Mary, and she was startled to see the master's sudden turn in his chair and the look upon his face. "Whether he was feared or whether he was angered, I canna rightly say," she told cook, "but anyway he looked fair mad like!" "Good evening," said Ned. His voice was restrained and dry, and as he spoke he strode across the room and seated himself deliberately in the arm chair on the side of the fire opposite to the lawyer. Simon had banished that first look which Mary saw, but there remained in his eyes something more than their usual cold stare. Each day since Carrington came seemed to have aged his face and changed it for the worse: a haggard, ugly, malicious face it seemed to his visitor looking hard at it to-night. His only greeting was a briefer grunt than ordinary. "I daresay you can guess what's brought me here," said Ned. The lawyer rapped out his first words jerkily. "No. I can't." "Try three guesses," suggested his visitor. "Come now, number one----?" For a moment Simon was silent, but to-night he could not hide the working of that face which usually hid his thoughts so effectually. It was plain he hesitated what line to take. "You have seen Miss Farmond, I hear," he said. "You're on the scent," said his visitor encouragingly. "Have another go." "You believe her story." "I do." "It's false." Ned stared at him very hard and then he spoke deliberately. "I'm wondering," said he. "Wondering what?" asked Simon. "Whether a horse whip or the toe of a shooting boot is the best cure for your complaint." The lawyer shrank back into his chair. "Do you threaten me?" he jerked out. "Be careful!" "If I threatened you I'd certainly do what I threatened," said Ned. "So far I'm only wondering. Where did you learn to lie, Mr. Rattar?" The lawyer made no answer at all. His mind seemed concentrated on guessing the other's probable actions. "Out with it, man! I've met some derned good liars in my time, but you beat the lot. I'm anxious to know where you learned the trick, that's all." "Why do you believe her more than me?" asked Simon. "Because you've been found out lying before. That was a pretty stiff one about your engaging Carrington, wasn't it?"