"You needn't apologize, my dear boy," returned Mr. Medwin graciously. "If I can be of any assistance to you I shall be only too pleased." He moved back, making room for them to enter. "I have to be my own butler to-day, because both my man and his wife are out for the afternoon. I send them to a matinée every now and then, just to keep them in a good temper." Colin and Joe stepped into the hall, the latter, who was the last to enter, closing the door carefully behind him. "I think the study will be the best place for us," continued their host. "Perhaps you'd like a whisky and soda or a glass of port first, though?" Colin declined politely, and, still radiating good nature, Mr. Medwin ushered them into a small room on the left, where a bright fire was burning in the grate. "I use this as a kind of annex to my office," he added. "A large number of my clients are Kensington people, and so sometimes it's very convenient to be able to see them here." "It's very convenient for us," said Colin. "As a matter of fact, we were particularly anxious to find you alone." The other, who was in the act of pulling forward a chair, glanced up sharply at the change in his visitor's voice. Colin took a step forward. "I've got several things to say to you, Medwin, but before I start, just get this fact plainly into your head. If you attempt to call out or to make the least noise, I'll smash your face to a jelly." There was a moment of dead silence, then very slowly Medwin stepped back to the fireplace and moistened his lips. "Have you gone mad?" he demanded. "Sit down," said Colin curtly. He pointed to the chair, and with a face from which every vestige of colour had suddenly departed, the lawyer silently obeyed his instructions. Joe moved softly toward him across the room, a formidable and menacing figure in the gray afternoon light. It was Colin who was the first to speak. "What have you and Fenton done with Miss Seymour?" Medwin, who by an amazing effort seemed to have recovered some of his self-possession, looked up with an expression of blank amazement. "I have never heard of Miss Seymour," he answered. "In fact, I haven't the remotest notion what you're talking about." Colin came a step nearer. "Haven't you?" he said. "Then perhaps I'd better explain." He thrust his hand under Medwin's chin, and, jerking up his face, stared down into his eyes. "Now, you damned liar," he said, "listen to me. You know as well as I do who Miss Seymour is. You have known it ever since you broke into the Red Lodge and opened the Professor's desk." He released his hold and, gripping Medwin by the collar, shook him backward and forward as a dog shakes a rat. "My God, I'd kill you where you sit if I didn't want an answer to my question. You've not only tried to rob and ruin this girl, but if it wasn't for you and Fenton the Professor would be still alive."