Margaret looked at Robert beseechingly. The sailor's face was like granite. Only his eyes flashed a warning that Capella might have noted were he less blinded by passion. "Do not attempt to shield yourself by the presence of others!" screamed Capella. "I know that Miss Layton and her father are here. That is part of the game you play. As for you, Mr. David Hume, or whatever you call yourself, your own record is not so clean that you should endeavour to cloak the misdeeds of others." The Italian had never before seen Robert to his knowledge. He only met David for a few moments during an angry scene at Beechcroft, when Brett did most of the talking. The mistake he now made was a natural one. "It does not occur to you," said Robert, in a voice remarkable for its calmness, "that not content with grossly insulting your wife, you are attacking the reputation of a man whom you do not know." "Pooh!" Capella, in his excitement, snapped his fingers. "You Hume-Frazers are very fond of defending your reputations. A fig for them! You are not worthy to consort with honourable people. I feel assured that when Mr. Layton and his daughter know the truth about you they will decline to associate with you." Whatever else might be urged against the Italian, he was no coward. Such language might well have led to a fierce attack on him by a man so greatly his superior in physical strength. But Robert sat down, near the door. "You have some object in coming here to-day," he said. "What is it?" Margaret remained standing near the fire-place. Capella produced a bundle of papers. "I am here," he said, "to unmask the woman who unfortunately bears my name, and at the same time to prevent you from getting Miss Layton to marry you under false pretences." "A worthy programme!" observed Frazer suavely. "You may attain the second part of your scheme, I admit, but the first seems to be difficult." "Is it? We shall see!" Capella flourished his papers and began a passionate avowal of the "treachery" practised on him in the matter of Margaret's parentage, ending by saying: "That woman's mother was the affianced bride of my father. She deceived him basely. On his death-bed he made me vow my lifelong hatred of her betrayer and all his descendants. To you, a cold-blooded Englishman, that perhaps means nothing. To me it is sacred, imperishable, dearer than life. And to think that I have been tricked into a marriage with the daughter of the man who was my father's enemy. How mad I was not to make inquiries! What a poor, short-sighted fool! But I will have my revenge! I will expose your accursed race in the courts! I will not rest content until I am free from this snare!" Margaret would have spoken, but her cousin quickly forestalled her. "You bring two charges against your wife," Robert said. "The first is that she deceived you before marriage; the second that she is deceiving you now. You contemplate taking divorce proceedings against her?" "I do."