The speech ended in a yearning scream. It was a strange setting for so peaceful a scene. Ralph Darnley made a step forward, with the impulse to interfere, strong upon him. Then a figure came between the light and the window, and Mary appeared. She stood there, tall and stately in her white dress; her eyes were filled with stern disapproval. She came slowly down the steps and stood between the two men. She did not fail to notice Mayfield's cut lip and the spot or two of blood on his gleaming shirt front. "What is the meaning of this?" she asked. "Father, you don't mean to say----" "Ay, but I do," Dashwood said doggedly. "I struck him. Would that I had killed him! There would be far less disgrace for the family in the end. I struck him, and he took it quietly like the cur and craven that he is!" "I hardly think that I deserve that," Mayfield said. "Whatever my failings may be, you will not find a lack of physical courage amongst them. Sir George has been very unfortunate in his speculations, and he chooses to blame me for it. We only got the news late tonight. A man in whom we trusted has played the knave, and Sir George is likely to suffer for it. To put the matter quite plainly, unless your father can find a very large sum of money in a few days he will probably be prosecuted. One can make any allowance for his feelings in the circumstances, but that is no reason why he should accuse one of deliberately laying a plot to ruin him. As to the assault upon me, why let it pass. In the excitement of the moment----" "Pardon me," Mary said quietly, "I heard my name mentioned. My father's voice was raised so loudly that I could not help hearing something of what passed. You did me the honour to say that I might avert the catastrophe." "That is so," Mayfield retorted in the same self-contained manner. "In certain circumstances I am prepared to stand by your father. I can say that it is a misunderstanding so far as he is concerned, and that I am prepared to take over the venture as it stands, and pay everybody who has lost confidence in it. I could write to the Press and vindicate the honour of the man who stood in the light of prospective father-in-law to me." The girl's face whitened in the moonlight. Ralph could see the heaving of her breast. She had taken in the situation like a flash of inspiration. There was none of the grinning triumph of the successful rogue on Mayfield's face; it was all being quietly and decorously done, but the grip of iron was there all the same, the iron hand in the velvet glove. Mary essayed to speak, but words failed her for the moment. Sir George stood between the man and his prey with trembling hands outstretched as if to keep them apart. His lips opened, he gabbled something too incoherent for understanding, then he collapsed like a heap of black cloth on the grass. Something seemed to snap in his brain, then a blank came over him.