"Certainly not," replied Mr. Smith. "At least, _I_ can't. But if you repent----" "I don't," Annesley broke in. "I was thinking of you, of course." "Bless you!" said her host. His tone was suddenly gay. She glanced at him and saw that his face was gay also, his eyes bright and challenging, his look almost boyish. She had taken him for thirty-three or four; now she would have guessed him younger. Annesley could not help admiring his pluck, for he had said that the arrival of these men meant danger. She ought to be sorry as well as frightened because they had come, but at that moment she was neither. Her companion's example was contagious. Her spirits rose. And the thought flashed through her head, "This adventure won't end here!" If she had had time she would have been ashamed of her gladness; but there was no time. Smith was talking again in a suppressed yet cheerful tone. "You won't forget that we're Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Smith?" "No--no. I sha'n't forget." "You may have to call me Nelson, and I--to call you Annesley. It's a pretty name, odd for a woman to have. How did you get it?" "Oh, you don't want to hear that now!" "Why not?--unless you'd rather not tell me. We can't do anything more till the blow falls, except enjoy ourselves and go on with our dinner. How did you come to be Annesley?" "It was part of my mother's maiden name. She was an Annesley-Seton." "There's a Lord Annesley-Seton, isn't there?" "Yes." "Related to you?" "A cousin. But Grayle isn't a name in their set. He and his wife have forgotten my existence. I'm not likely to remind them of it." "His wife was an American girl, wasn't she?" "How odd that you should know!" "Not very. I remember there being a lot in the papers about the wedding six or seven years ago. The girl was very rich--a Miss Haverstall. Her father's lost his money since then." "How _can_ you keep such uninteresting things in your mind--just now?" "They're not uninteresting. They concern you!" "Lord Annesley-Seton's affairs don't concern me, and never will." "I wonder?" said Smith, looking thoughtful; and the girl wondered, too: not about her future or her relatives, but what the next few minutes would do with this strange young man, and how at such a time he could bear to talk commonplaces. "If you're trying to keep me from being nervous," she whispered, "it's not a bit of use! I can't think of anything or any one except those men. They've stopped whispering. But they're looking at you. Now--they're getting up. They're coming toward us!" CHAPTER IV THE GREAT MOMENT The men were staring so keenly at "Mr. N. Smith" that it seemed to Annesley he must feel the stab of eyes, sharp as pin-pricks, in his back. He had the self-control, however, not to look round, not even to change expression. No man in the restaurant appeared more calmly at ease than he.