Adrian's heart smote him as he saw how nobly she defended his pusillanimous conduct, though to be sure it is easier to be brave even at the cannon's mouth than to await in cold blood for a certain arrest and a possible ignominious death. "But I thought you said he went to seek assistance," he observed deliberately. "And I say so again," she retorted angrily, "why do you measure and clip my words in this pedantic fashion?--he might have changed his mind--if he has erred in acting upon the impulse of the moment, no doubt he is now being severely punished for it." Poor soul, she little knew how severe the punishment was. "He is hiding in some distant place, I suppose, that in itself is punishment for a noble-hearted gentleman like my Adrian to have to conceal his face from his fellow men--punishment indeed--I tell you, Dr. Roversmire, he has, I am certain, already undergone worse punishment than any the law can devise." In her castings round for apologies for Adrian's conduct, she had accidentally hit upon the truth, and the soul of the man she loved hidden in the body of the man she hated, writhed under the lash of her words. He had, however, to act the part of a cold philosopher, such as was in keeping with Dr. Roversmire's general conduct, and crushed down his rising emotions with a powerful effort. "I understand and appreciate all you have said," he observed calmly, "but what do you want me to do?" "Tell me where he is." "How can I do that?" "By the aid of your science--chicanery--readings in the stars--or whatever else you practise under the title of theosophy. What is the good of you pretending to supernatural powers if you cannot exercise them in an emergency like this?" Here was a dilemma--Adrian had not the slightest idea of the sciences which Dr. Roversmire was supposed to know, and he was quite unable to answer this girl, who stood looking at him with piercing gaze. "Perhaps you already know where he is?" she said with sudden suspicion. "I!" he echoed in apparent surprise, "how should I know?" "It may be that, although you have never seen him, you do not like him," she went on feverishly, not paying any attention to his answer. "You did me the honour to ask me to be your wife--I declined as I loved Adrian Lancaster--perhaps you hate him on that account--I don't believe in your spells and juggling tricks, still--still--tell me," she demanded, with a sudden outburst of anger, "do you know anything about the disappearance of Adrian Lancaster?" He made a gesture of dissent, for although he was burning to reveal himself, yet the dread of future consequences kept him silent.