‘Teresa!’ the young lover exclaimed when they were in the hall, ‘say you don’t regret. I have loved you since the moment I saw you first.’ ‘I don’t regret,’ she said simply. ‘Why should I?’ ‘Call me Dick,’ he demanded. ‘Dick.’ ‘And kiss me.’ She kissed him. ‘Thanks,’ he said in his curious, undisturbed way; ‘that is indeed good. Now go to bed and rest. I will have a thorough explanation with your father at once. I am determined on that. We must know where we stand, you and I;’ and without waiting for her to make any reply, he flung back into the drawing-room and slammed the door. Raphael still sat on the Chesterfield, apparently lost in thought. ‘Mr. Craig,’ Richard began, ‘I am now, for practical purposes, a member of your family. Your interests are, presumably, your daughter’s interests, and your daughter’s interests are certainly my interests; therefore----’ ‘Therefore?’ repeated Mr. Craig imperturbably. ‘Therefore,’ said Richard, ‘don’t you think you had better let me into some of your secrets?’ ‘As, for example----’ ‘The secret, for example, of what has occurred between you and Micky, whose real name you have doubtless learnt since I left you on Saturday night last. I should tell you that I had ascertained the identity of that gentleman immediately upon the conclusion of my interview with you.’ ‘And I,’ said Mr. Craig, ‘ascertained it about twenty-four hours later. It was then that the revolver-shot occurred. The revolver-shot hurt no one and nothing except the piano.’ Here Mr. Craig lifted up the embroidered damask cover of the piano, and showed splintered wood beneath. The perforation in the damask cover was scarcely noticeable. He continued: ‘I was angry at the man’s calm insolence when I taxed him with being a detective. I aimed to hit, but aimed badly. Having missed, I thought better of the idea of an immediate killing, and told him to go. He went. I saw nothing of him again till I saw him lying senseless in the pit to-night; but I guessed that he was still prowling about.’ ‘Thanks,’ said Richard. ‘Thanks for what?’ asked the old man. ‘For your candour. I hope you will trust me and confide in me.’ Richard was now trying to be extremely diplomatic. ‘In spite of appearances, I still believe that you are an honourable man, engaged, however, in some scheme which may involve you in difficulties. Mr. Craig, let me beg you, most respectfully, to continue your frankness; you can lose nothing by it. I need not point out to you that you have been very fortunate to-night.’ ‘In what way?’