As these thoughts flashed rapidly through his brain, he saw at a glance the precipice upon which he stood and resolved to gain time by dexterously temporising so as to form some plan of action. Sir John had strolled outside on to the lawn so he was quite alone with Olive, and could speak freely. "Adrian Lancaster," he said smoothly. "I don't think I have had the pleasure of meeting him." "No! At the time you were visiting us in town, he was away on the continent, but although you do not know him personally, I dare say you have seen his name in the papers of late." Adrian pretended to think for a moment. "Yes, I fancy I have," he replied, anxious to learn from Olive's lips the true condition of Philip Trevanna, "did he not attempt to commit a murder?" Olive arose to her feet rapidly, with a look of anger on her expressive face. "No he did not," she answered in a clear, vibrating voice. "Mr. Trevanna is now getting better, and has made a statement which completely exonerates Mr. Lancaster from any such intention." "Thank God," thought Adrian thankfully, "at all events my character will be cleared even although I am unable to defend myself." Mistaking his silence for disbelief, Olive went on to explain the circumstances of the case. "Mr. Lancaster and Mr. Trevanna were playing cards and Mr. Trevanna insulted his friend by flinging the cards in his face. Hardly knowing what he was doing, Mr. Lancaster threw a decanter at Mr. Trevanna. It struck him on the head and stunned him. Thinking he was dead, Mr. Lancaster left, very likely to get assistance. Mr. Trevanna is now recovering and blames himself severely for provoking Mr. Lancaster's anger as he said Mr. Lancaster kept his temper admirably for some time under the grossest provocation." "And Mr. Lancaster has disappeared?" said Adrian. "Yes, he has vanished completely and in spite of all enquiries cannot be found." "Are you sure he went to seek assistance, or--fled?" asked Adrian in a measured tone. "You wrong him by such a thought," said Olive loyally. "Adrian Lancaster is not the man to fly from the consequence of his own misdeeds--no! I believe he went to seek assistance, and--and--" "Never came back," said the pseudo Roversmire cynically. Olive lifted her arms with a gesture of despair. "It ill becomes you to speak in this way," she said severely. "What do you know about the impulses of youth? you are an old man, cautious, cold-blooded and calculating; he was warm, impulsive and hot-tempered. If, in a moment of anger, he thought he had committed a crime, was it therefore a very wonderful thing that he should go away secretly for a period so as to gain time to explain the matter, instead of waiting to be arrested? I blame him for his folly as much as you do, but I pity and love him all the same."