When we went down Bates was limping about the library, endeavoring to restore order. “Bates,” I said to him, “you are a very curious person. I have had a thousand and one opinions about you since I came here, and I still don’t make you out.” He turned from the shelves, a defaced volume in his hands. “Yes, sir. It was a good deal that way with your lamented grandfather. He always said I puzzled him.” Larry, safe behind the fellow’s back, made no attempt to conceal a smile. “I want to thank you for your heroic efforts to protect the house last night. You acted nobly, and I must confess, Bates, that I didn’t think it was in you. You’ve got the right stuff in you; I’m only sorry that there are black pages in your record that I can’t reconcile with your manly conduct of last night. But we’ve got to come to an understanding.” “Yes, sir.” “The most outrageous attacks have been made on me since I came here. You know what I mean well enough. Mr. Glenarm never intended that I should sit down in his house and be killed or robbed. He was the gentlest being that ever lived, and I’m going to fight for his memory and to protect his property from the scoundrels who have plotted against me. I hope you follow me.” “Yes, Mr. Glenarm.” He was regarding me attentively. His lips quavered, perhaps from weakness, for he certainly looked ill. “Now I offer you your choice,—either to stand loyally by me and my grandfather’s house or to join these scoundrels Arthur Pickering has hired to drive me out. I’m not going to bribe you,—I don’t offer you a cent for standing by me, but I won’t have a traitor in the house, and if you don’t like me or my terms I want you to go and go now.” He straightened quickly,—his eyes lighted and the color crept into his face. I had never before seen him appear so like a human being. “Mr. Glenarm, you have been hard on me; there have been times when you have been very unjust—” “Unjust,—my God, what do you expect me to take from you! Haven’t I known that you were in league with Pickering? I’m not as dull as I look, and after your interview with Pickering in the chapel porch you can’t convince me that you were faithful to my interests at that time.” He started and gazed at me wonderingly. I had had no intention of using the chapel porch interview at this time, but it leaped out of me uncontrollably. “I suppose, sir,” he began brokenly, “that I can hardly persuade you that I meant no wrong on that occasion.” “You certainly can not,—and it’s safer for you not to try. But I’m willing to let all that go as a reward for your work last night. Make your choice now; stay here and stop your spying or clear out of Annandale within an hour.” He took a step toward me; the table was between us and he drew quite near but stood clear of it, erect until there was something almost soldierly and commanding in his figure. “By God, I will stand by you, John Glenarm!” he said, and struck the table smartly with his clenched hand.