He fired his pistol into the lock of the door, blew it out, and then dashed into the pitchy darkness beyond. He felt a woman against him, and Gertrude Norcot's voice was lifted. "Stand back, Maurice Malherb; you are doing a wicked and a dangerous thing. My brother----" "Where is he?--let him answer for himself. Who are here in this Egyptian darkness? Grace--Grace--speak! It is your father." "Dear father--oh, listen, I pray you, and try to understand. All is well--all will be well. Peter has been most good and generous. He----" "Light!" shouted Malherb. "Who can breathe in this inky air? Hold the door, Putt. Let no man escape while I make for the window and let in day." "Her eyes, sir!" cried Cecil Stark. "For Heaven's sake have caution! It may mean eternal blindness for her!" "Not my eyes, dear Cecil--yours, yours! Oh, father, his eyes!" "Damn everybody's eyes!" roared the master. "There are foul things wriggling here--as we find under the upturned stone. But see 'em we must, to crush 'em!" Stark interposed fiercely, and the men closed in the dark. "You shall not, sir; you know not that Grace's eyes depend upon it for their recovery." "Who the deuce are you? Not Peter----?" "Cecil Stark. I am here to marry your daughter at Norcot's wish and hope." "That Yankee again! Light, I say, or I shall go mad!" The men reeled and crashed against the window. Stark lost his adversary for a moment, and Malherb, feeling the curtains, tore them down, got to the shutter behind them, and by main force dragged it off its hinges and broke the bolt. A great flood of light burst upon the room, and every eye was dazzled by the morning sunshine. Cowering in one corner, clad in his black robe and bands, sat Relton Norcot; Stark stood against Malherb and turned with a cry of horror to Grace as the daylight streamed upon her; while she in her turn hastened to him. The brown eyes fell upon the grey, and each saw that the other's were unharmed. Gertrude Norcot spoke to Malherb. "My brother alone can solve this apparent mystery," she said. "I pray you to withhold your judgment and your passion, Maurice Malherb, until Peter is here to speak and explain all for himself." "I'm waiting for him. I've nothing to do with anybody else. Where is he? How comes it that he is not here to marry my daughter as he intended, the knave?" "'Twas for me that he had plotted this romance," said Stark. "I cannot hear his name abused. The fault is all mine. I----" "I'll hark to you later. For the present your business is with Bradridge here. This was what your admirable friend, Peter Norcot, had planned for you: a quick return to Prince Town. Nothing could be better, I trow. And now, my clerk----" He turned to where Relton Norcot had been sitting, but the clergyman was gone. Unobserved he had slipped behind the curtains, got out of a window and disappeared.