"You lie, you miserable hound," said Lethbridge, contemptuously. "You’ve made a mistake right enough; but it was not a mistake in the matter of the room. You deliberately planned this whole show, and now——" he took him by the collar, "you can reap the reward." He shook Fordingham, as a terrier shakes a rat; then he flung him into a corner. "Open the door, Colt," he said, quietly, "and we’ll throw the mess into the passage." The mess did not wait to be thrown; it gathered unto itself legs, and departed rapidly. "Hang it!" said Hugh, as he closed the door. "I’ve nearly broken my toe on him." He limped to the bed, where he sat rubbing his foot. Just once he stole a glance at the Colt, who was standing rigidly by the mantelpiece; then he resumed the rubbing. And on his face there was a faint, tender smile. Then the massage ceased as a pair of soft arms came round his neck from behind. "Boy! oh, boy!" and her mouth was very close to his ear. "You don’t think—oh! tell me you don’t think—that I——" He put his hand over her mouth. "It’s no question of thinking, my Colt, I know——" For a while he stared at the face so close to his own; then very gently he kissed her on the lips. "I know—I was at the Milan myself to-night, Colt—behind a pillar. I told ’em to play Our Tune." He stood up and smiled at her. "We’ll manage the show better now. I’ve been worried; I’ve been a fool. I won’t be any more. And now it’s time you went to bed." He turned away abruptly. "I’ll be getting off to my own room." But she was at the door before him, arms outstretched, barring the way. "Just wait a moment," she cried, a little breathlessly, "I want to telephone before—before you go——" "Telephone!" His surprise showed on his face. "At this hour." But the Colt was already speaking. "Halloa! Is that the office? Oh, it’s Mrs. Lethbridge speaking. My husband has suddenly arrived. He has a room here, so could you give us a double room, in exchange for our two singles? You can? Thank you." She replaced the receiver and turned to the Man. "There are a whole lot of things I don’t understand," she said, demurely, "and it won’t be any more expensive." But the Man had her in his arms. "My Colt!" he whispered, triumphantly. "My Colt!" _*III — The House by the Headland*_ "You’ll no get there, zurr. There’ll be a rare storm this night. Best bide here, and be going to-morrow morning after ’tis over." The warning of my late host, weather-wise through years of experience, rang through my brain as I reached the top of the headland, and, too late, I cursed myself for not having heeded his words. With a gasp I flung my pack down on the ground, and loosened my collar. Seven miles behind me lay the comfortable inn where I had lunched; eight miles in front the one where I proposed to dine. And midway between them was I, dripping with perspiration and panting for breath.