Rebb walked forward, and flung himself into a chair, gnawing his moustache, somewhat taken aback by Haskins' aplomb. Usually, when he asserted his undeniably strong will, his opponents sat down and obeyed. But the Major recognized readily enough that he had a determined man to deal with, and, moreover, knew that he could not get the better of him by treachery, since the Silbury police were aware of Haskins' whereabouts. The Pixy's House already had an unpleasant reputation, and Rebb did not wish an inexplicable disappearance to take place there. He would willingly have got rid of this man, who so persistently crossed his path, but the risk was too great. And as man to man, Gerald was more than able to hold his own. Rebb was no fool, and, for the moment, he mentally confessed himself beaten. "I ask your pardon for losing my temper," he said, wiping his forehead, "but no man can sit quietly and hear himself accused of woman murder." "Defend yourself then," said Gerald, relighting his pipe, which had gone out during the episode. "There is no need for me to make a defence," snarled the other. "I think there is. Geary may hold his tongue, since he appears to be devoted to you, but his wife, having left her husband, will certainly speak out." "What can she say?" asked Rebb, taking another glass of claret. "That you went to this place on the night, and about the time, of the murder. You went away some time after I left, and did not return until two in the morning." Major Rebb sat moodily looking at the tips of his slippers. He saw well that Gerald was right, and if the young man--as he probably would--supported Mrs. Geary in making trouble, very unpleasant questions might be asked. "Why the devil do you interfere in my business?" he asked, between his teeth. "Because I love Mavis Durham." "She is dead." "You can't be sure of that." "Then you know!" cried the Major, starting to his feet. "Now how should I know anything when you have exonerated me from complicity in her flight?" argued Gerald, dexterously skirting the subject. "If I had run away with Mavis she would be my wife by this time." "And would have passed her honeymoon in prison?" growled Rebb, quite convinced by Gerald's quiet tone. "I think not. I should have fought for my wife. And I intend to search for her and fight for her still." "You'll never find her. If she were alive she would have been captured long ago." "Ah, it would please you, no doubt, to see her hanged." "No! on my soul, no!" cried the Major, beginning to walk to and fro, "I only want to see her happy. She was happy here," he added, as Gerald laughed unpleasantly. "She was happy until you came and disturbed her poor brain." "Her very clever brain!" contradicted the young man acidly. "Pshaw! Major, am I a fool that you should talk to me in this way? Whatever you may state to the outside world, for the sake of your illegal income, you know perfectly well that Mavis is perfectly sane."