"And who is this gentleman?" Rupert Ravenspur demanded, his eye on Tchigorsky. "A friend of mine," Ralph put in, "Dr. Tchigorsky." Ravenspur bowed, not that he looked overpleased. "Permit me to place my hospitality at your disposal," he said. "It is many years since we entertained at Ravenspur, nor do we, in ordinary circumstances, desire them. At present I cannot do less than make you welcome. Madame, I regret that your curiosity should have ended so disastrously." "I am properly punished," Mrs. May groaned. "My poor foot!" In the presence of pain and suffering even Ravenspur's displeasure disappeared. Mrs. Gordon proceeded to cut away the high French boot and bathe the small foot in warm water. Almost immediately Mrs. May declared the pain to have passed away. There were tears in her eyes--tears that moved some of the onlookers. "I am sure I don't deserve this," she said. "I have behaved so abominably that I really don't know what to say." "Say nothing," Mrs. Gordon replied simply and gently, "but come in to supper. I understand that you are staying at Jessop's farm. A message shall be sent them that you will not return till morning. Meanwhile, if you will lean on me we will manage to reach the dining room." The procession started. In the doorway stood Vera. She came forward with a speech of condolence. Tchigorsky was watching the pair. There was a hard gleam in his eyes; the clenching of his hand as over the hilt of a dagger. Beyond, with a face white as her dress, stood Marion. She staggered against the table as she saw Mrs. May. Her face was full of terror. Geoffrey wondered what it all meant. And was this the wildest comedy or the direst tragedy that was working out before his eyes? CHAPTER XXVIII MORE OF THE BEES Of the real palpitating horror of the situation only three people round the table knew the true inwardness. They were Tchigorsky and Ralph and Mrs. May. Geoffrey guessed much, and probably Marion could have said a deal had she cared to. Her face was smiling again, but the uneasy, haunted look never left her eyes. And all through the elaborate, daintily served meal Mrs. May never glanced at the girl once. And yet, here under the Ravenspur roof, partaking of the family hospitality, was the evil itself. Ralph smiled to himself grimly as he wondered what his father would say if he knew the truth. Once or twice as he spoke Mrs. May glanced at him curiously. She was herself now; she might have been an honored guest at that table for years. "Your face is oddly familiar to me," she said. "I regret I cannot say the same," Ralph replied. "I am blind." "But you have not always been blind?" "No. But my misfortune dates back for a number of years. It is a matter that I do not care to discuss with anybody." But Mrs. May was not to be baffled. She had an odd feeling that this man and herself had met before. The face was the same, and yet not the same. "Were you ever in Tibet?" she asked.