“Come on, you!” He crooked his finger. “Not you, Mendoza: you stay here, eh? You can see her after, perhaps—after supper.” He leered down at the shrinking girl. “Nobody’s going to hurt you. Leave your cloak here.” “No, I’ll wear it,” she said. Her hand went instinctively to the butt of the pistol and closed upon it. “All right, come as you are. It makes no difference to me.” He held her tightly by the hand and marched by her side, surprised and pleased that she offered so little resistance. Down into the hall they went, and then to the little drawing-room adjoining his study. He flung open the door and showed her the gaily decorated table, pushing her into the room before him. “Wine and a kiss!” he roared, as he pulled the cork from a champagne bottle and sent the amber fluid splashing upon the spotless tablecloth. “Wine and a kiss!” He splashed the glass out to her so that it spilt and trickled down her cloak. She shook her head mutely. “Drink!” he snarled, and she touched the glass with her lips. Then, before she could realize what had happened, she was in his arms, his great face pressed down to hers. She tried to escape from the encirclement of his embrace, successfully averted her mouth and felt his hot lips pressing against her cheek. Presently he let her go, and, staggering to the door, kicked it shut. His fingers were closing on the key handle when: “If you turn that key I’ll kill you.” He looked up in ludicrous surprise, and, at the sight of the pistol in the girl’s hand, his big hands waved before his face in a gesture of fear. “Put it down, you fool!” he squealed. “Put it down! Don’t you know what you’re doing? The damned thing may go off by accident.” “It will not go off by accident,” she said. “Open that door.” He hesitated for a moment, and then her thumb tightened on the safety-catch, and he must have seen the movement. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” he screamed, and flung the door wide open. “Wait, you fool! Don’t go out. Bhag is there. Bhag will get you. Stay with me. I’ll——” But she was flying down the corridor. She slipped on a loose rug in the hall but recovered herself. Her trembling hands were working at the bolts and chains; the door swung open, and in another instant she was in the open, free. Sir Gregory followed her. The shock of her escape had sobered him, and all the tragic consequences which might follow came crowding in upon him, until his very soul writhed in fear. Dashing back to his study, he opened his safe, took out a bundle of notes. These he thrust into the pocket of a fur-lined overcoat that was hanging in a cupboard and put it on. He changed his slippers for thick shoes, and then bethought him of Bhag. He opened the den, but Bhag was not there, and he raised his shaking fingers to his lips. If Bhag caught her!