From below she heard a deep rumble of sound which might have been a voice, but in her eagerness she was tugging at the oaken support, and in another second the stone fell behind her and she scrambled up through the trap. She could see nothing; the place was in darkness. “Dick!” she called. And then a hand gripped her, and she realized with horror that all the shufflings of feet and the conversation had been so much acting on his part. She was still holding the rifle, but before she could raise it he had gripped the stock and wrenched it from her hand. She heard it fall with a clatter on the stone floor below. Half swooning in her fear and terror, her struggles grew weaker. He was holding her in his arms and his strength was surprising. “We are going below, my sweet,” he whispered in her ear. “At last I know the truth! So it was Dick you wanted! Dear Dick!” He was chuckling softly to himself as he carried her to the top of the steps. “Will you walk down, or must I throw you?” he asked, in a tone so even and rational that he might have been uttering some commonplace of everyday life. With trembling knees she walked down the steps into the lighted room, and he followed, pausing to close the trap and secure it firmly. “Sit down.” He pointed to the settle by the table and immediately she sat down. Her face was ghastly; her last reserves of courage were almost sapped. “You have hurt me beyond forgiveness, Leslie,” he said, his solemn eyes fixed on hers. “Do you realize what you have done? You have treated with contempt Harry Alford, Eighteenth Earl of Chelford, Viscount of Carberry, Baron Alford.…” With the solemnity of a child reciting a lesson he repeated the titles he held, even to a remote barony of Aquitaine which the Chelfords had held in the dim past. She had a queer feeling that she was standing before a judge, listening to an indictment of some hideous crime she had committed. “You have attempted to endanger my life; you have conspired with those who hate me; you have treacherously held communication with and given comfort to my enemies.…” There were other charges, that would have sounded ludicrous at other times, would have aroused her to fury, but she listened now, husbanding all her strength for the coming struggle. His rifle leant against the steps, but he barred her way effectively. Looking round for some weapon, she saw nothing but the lamp and that was too heavy for use. “For you,” he said, in tones of deepest gravity, “there can be only one punishment--death!”