“Rees!” whispered Amos rather huskily. “All right.” They disappeared together into the lower cellar, pulled the door after him, and drew the bolt. Deborah crept close to the small nail-holes where once a lock had been fixed, hoping to learn what had become of Lord St. Austell, about whom she felt every minute more anxious. She could see nothing through the holes but the glow and flicker of the fire on the walls, but she was able to distinguish every word of the conversation. “Well,” Rees began, in a spiritless and surly voice, “you seem to have been enjoying yourself.” “I have,” assented the other, in a tone of such savage satisfaction that Deborah seemed to feel the blood grow suddenly cold in her veins. “There’s nothing else to be done till Sep comes back.” “He has come back,” said Rees shortly. “Come back!” echoed Goodhare in a tone of anger and consternation. “What the d--l has he come back for?” “You’d better ask him. I met him just now standing shivering and hesitating at the outer door of our room.” “But he never went then! He can’t have been to Amsterdam and back since yesterday!” “I should say not.” “Then what has the fool done with the jewels?” asked Amos, whose tones grew more furious every moment. Already he had drawn the bolt of the door. “From what I could make out, some woman’s got them. But the poor wretch was in such an abject state of funk that I couldn’t get much that was intelligible out of him.” Goodhare stammered out an oath. He seemed to be choking with rage as he burst opened the door with a rough hand. “A woman!” he growled out. “I’ll tear the heart out of her.” “If you can get hold of her,” says Rees drily. “But as I thought you’d make things unpleasant for the poor chap, I pushed him out of the front door and told him to put a couple of miles between you and him as fast as possible.” Goodhare turned, very slowly. The shock of this intelligence, imparted thus coolly, seemed for the moment to overwhelm him. Then, with a howl of rage, he sprang at Rees, who nimbly avoided him. “You dare to defy me, to help this miserable cur to escape me!” “Yes, I tell you I’m sick of the whole business, this dog’s life and all. And I’m not sorry the jewels are gone, that I can be quit of knavery and you together. You seem to be pretty well ‘on’ to-night, and in you’re true colors you’re by no means fascinating.” Goodhare seemed, however, to perceive the need of pulling himself together. There was a short pause before he answered, in a quieter tone: “Don’t you think you’re rather ungrateful? You must own that I’ve shown you how to enjoy yourself, and given you the means to do it, too.” “A poor sort of enjoyment! I’m the wreck of what I was a year and a half ago!” “Only shows how alluring you found pleasure, that you gave yourself up to it so completely.”