Lizzy glanced at her comrade. He was staring open-mouthed into the hall below. “She is too pretty a daughter to lose. Now, Mrs. Pinder, I am going to make you an offer. I want you to take your daughter to South America. I will pay you a yearly sum, more than sufficient for your needs. If you undertake to do that, you will never be troubled again.” Mary Pinder smiled and shook her head. “Madam, your offer comes too late. Had it been made whilst I was still a prisoner, had it been supported by any efforts to obtain my release from that cruel punishment, I would have gone on my knees and thanked you and blessed you. But now I know too much.” “What do you know?” asked Lady Moron. And then Mrs. Pinder began to speak, and as she went on, Lizzy gripped the hand of the man at her side, and laid her face against his arm. He turned round once during the narrative, his weak face transfigured and smiled down at her, as though he read in her gesture all that her heart conveyed. Mrs. Pinder spoke without interruption, and, when she had finished: “You know a great deal too much for my comfort, madam,” said her ladyship’s voice, “and much too much for the safety of my friends.” “So I realise,” said Mary Pinder gravely. “I repeat my offer. I would advise you to think well before you reject your chance of safety.” “Look here, Leonora----” began Chesney Praye. “Be silent. I have found one friend to-night--one I can trust. It is not you, Chesney. The doctor has told me all that has happened. You thought you would go behind my back and forestall me. To-night you will do as you’re told. Now, madam--do you accept my offer?” “No,” was Mrs. Pinder’s reply. Lady Moron turned to the red-faced doctor. He nodded. “Now, Mrs. Pinder,” he said, advancing to her, his tone jovial, his manner friendly, “why can’t you be sensible? Do as her ladyship asks you.” “I will not----” He was near to her now. Suddenly his hand shot out and strangled the scream in her throat. She struggled desperately, madly, but there was no denying those relentless hands. Chesney Praye took half a step forward, but Lady Moron’s arm barred him. And then came the interruption. A wild-looking, dust-stained man, unrecognisable to any, leapt from the balcony and gripped the doctor by the shoulders from behind. As Tappatt staggered back, releasing his hold upon his victim, Selwyn sprang to the long red bell-cord that hung on the side of the wall, and pulled. From overhead came a deafening clang. Again he pulled. “You fool, you madman, what are you doing?” His mother rushed towards him, but he pushed her back. Presently he ceased. “That’s the alarm bell. We’ll have all the house and half the village in here in a minute. And I don’t want to say before them what I’m saying to you now.” He pointed an accusing finger at his mother. “You think I’m a fool, and perhaps you’re right. But I’m not a wicked fool, and I’m going to send you and your damnable friend before a judge!”