“He brought me. I didn’t want to come,” said Adele. She was half hysterical in her fright. She tried hard to imitate the calm of her companion, biting her quivering lips to keep them still, and after a while she was calm enough to tell what had happened. Stella’s face clouded. “Of course, he took my car,” she said, speaking to herself, “and he has caught the chauffeur, as he said he would. Oh, my God!” “What will he do?” asked Adele in a whisper. Stella’s fine eyes turned on the girl. “What do you think he will do?” she asked significantly. “He’s a beast—the kind of beast you seldom meet except in books—and locked rooms. He’ll have no more mercy on you than Bhag would have on you.” “If Michael knows, he will kill him.” “Michael? Oh, Brixan, you mean?” said Stella with newly awakened interest. “Is he fond of you? Is that why he hangs around the lot? That never struck me before. But what does he care about Michael or any other man? He can run—his yacht is at Southampton, and he depends a lot upon his wealth to get him out of these kind of scrapes. And he knows that decent women shrink from appearance in a police court. Oh, he’s got all sorts of defences. He’s a worm, but a scaly worm!” “What shall I do?” Stella was walking up and down the narrow apartment, her hands clasped before her, her eyes sunk to the ground. “I don’t think he’ll hurt me.” And then, inconsequently, she went off at a tangent: “I saw a tramp at that window two hours ago.” “A tramp?” said the bewildered girl. Stella nodded. “It scared me terribly, until I remembered his eyes. They were Brixan’s eyes, though you’d never guess it, the make-up was so wonderful.” “Michael? Is he here?” asked the girl eagerly. “He’s somewhere around. That is your salvation, and there’s another.” She took down from a shelf a small Browning. “Did you ever fire a pistol?” The girl nodded. “I have to, in one scene,” she said a little awkwardly. “Of course! Well, this is loaded. That”—she pointed—“is the safety catch. Push it down with your thumb before you start to use it. You had better kill Penne—better for you, and better for him, I think.” The girl shrank back in horror. “Oh, no, no!” “Put it in your pocket—have you a pocket?” There was one inside the blue cloak the girl was wearing, and into this Stella dropped the pistol. “You don’t know what sort of sacrifice I’m making,” she said frankly, “and it isn’t as though I’m doing it for somebody I’m fond of, because I’m not particularly fond of you, Adele Leamington. But I wouldn’t be fit to live if I let that brute get you without a struggle.” And then impulsively she stooped forward and kissed the girl, and Adele put her arms about her neck and clung to her for a second. “He’s coming,” whispered Stella Mendoza, and stepped back with a gesture. It was Gregory—Gregory in his scarlet pyjama jacket and purple dressing-gown, his face aflame, his eyes fired with excitement.