"Your object in life does not concern me. Your courts tried their best to hang the man who was responsible for his cousin's death, and failed. I take it you decline this proffered duel?" "Yes." "Then I will fight David Hume in my own way. You have rejected the fair alternative on his behalf. Caramba! We shall see now who wins. He will never marry Helen." "What did you mean just now when you said that he was 'responsible for his cousin's death'? Is that an Italian way of describing a cold-blooded murder?" Capella leaned back and snarled silently again. It was a pity he had cultivated that trick. It spoilt an otherwise classically regular set of features. "James!" he shouted. The footman entered. "Take this gentleman to your mistress. I have done with him." "For the present, James," said Brett. The astonished servant led him along a corridor and knocked at a door hidden by a silk curtain. Mrs. Capella rose to receive her visitor. She was very pale now, but quite calm and dignified in manner. "Davie did not come with you?" she said when Brett was seated near to her in an alcove formed by an oriel window. "No. He is with Miss Layton." "Ah, I am not sorry, I prefer to talk with you alone." "It is perhaps better. Your cousin is impulsive in some respects, though self-contained enough in others." "It may be so. I like him, although we have not seen much of each other since we were children. I knew him this morning principally on account of his likeness to Alan. But you are his friend, Mr. Brett, and I can discuss with you matters I would not care to broach with him. He is with Helen Layton now, you say?" "Yes, and let me add an explanation. Those two young people are devoted to each other. No power on earth could separate them." "Why do you tell me that?" "Because I think you wished to be assured of it?" "You are clever, Mr. Brett. If you can interpret a criminal's designs as well as you can read a woman's heart you must be a terror to evil-doers." A slight colour came into her cheeks. The barrister leaned forward, his hands clasped and arms resting on his knees. "I have just seen your husband," he said. She exhibited no marked sign of emotion but he thought he detected a frightened look in her eyes. "Again I ask," she exclaimed, "why do you tell me?" "The reason is obvious. You ought to know all that goes on. There was a quarrel this morning between him and David Hume. Your husband wished me to arrange a duel. I promised him a visit from the police if I heard any more of such nonsense." "A duel! More bloodshed!" she almost whispered. "Do not have any alarm for either of them. They are quite safe. I will guarantee so much, at any rate. But your husband is a somewhat curious person. He is prone to strong and sudden hatreds--and attachments." Margaret pressed her hands to her face. She could no longer bear the torture of make-believe quiescence.