Marten's face darkened; he lost some of his suave manner. "Have you been carrying on a clandestine courtship with my daughter?" he asked. "No. A man bearing my name has no reason to shun daylight. That I have not sought your sanction earlier is due to the fact that I did not dream of marrying Nancy until a stroke of good fortune enabled me to come to you almost on an equal footing. Perhaps I have put that awkwardly, but my very anxiety clogs my tongue. Nancy and I love each other. She hates this Italian. Surely that is a good reason why you, her father, should not rule me out of court so positively." Marten rose and touched an electric bell. It jarred in some neighboring passage, and rang the knell of Lindsay's hopes. "I think we understand each other," he said, with chilling indifference. "My answer is no, Mr. Lindsay, and I look to you, as a man of honor, not to see or write to my daughter again." Now, it is not in the Celtic nature to brook such an undeservedly contemptuous dismissal; but Power had counseled his protégé to keep his temper, whatever happened. Still, he could not leave Marten in the belief that his stipulation was accepted. "I give no pledge of that sort," he said dourly. "Very well. It means simply that Miss Marten will be protected from you." "In what way?" Marten laughed, a trifle scornfully. "You are young, Mr. Lindsay," he said, "or you would see that you are speaking at random. I hear a footman coming. He will show you out. But, before you go, let me inform you that, so long as you remain in this part of Devonshire, Miss Marten will have less liberty of action than usual; and that will be vexing, because she is interested in some bazaar----" Then Lindsay's frank gaze sought and held the coldly hostile eyes of the man who was insulting him. "In that event," he broke in, "you leave me no option but to state that I return to Aldershot by the first available train. It would appear, Mr. Marten, that I value your daughter's happiness rather more than you do." He went out defeated, but every inch a cavalier. No sword clanked at his heels; yet he held his head high, though his soul was torn with despair. He saw nothing of Nancy. She had gone for a ride into the wilds of Exmoor, and had not the least notion that her lover passed through the gates of Valescure an hour before she entered them. Power heard Lindsay's broken story in silence. Even Marten's callous threat of confining Nancy to the bounds of the castle left him outwardly unmoved. "I am not altogether unprepared for your failure," he said gently, when the disconsolate Lindsay had told him exactly what had occurred. "I compliment you on your attitude. As might be expected, you said and did just the right things. I approve of your decision to rejoin your regiment at once. The next step is to prevent Nancy from acting precipitately. I think all may be well, even yet. But you agree that it was necessary you should see Mr. Marten and declare your position?"