“Impossible!” Mr. Candover was evidently surprised at this intelligence, or, as Audrey shrewdly suspected, surprised at her being in possession of it. “What reason have you for thinking so?” “I have the evidence of my ears and my eyes,” said she in a tremulous voice, but with a certain doggedness, “that gambling has been carried on here, long after the guests were supposed to be gone. They went to the room which is absurdly--or artfully--called the billiard-room, and there they went on playing till four o’clock in the morning. And there have been quarrels, and another man has been--found out.” “Who?” asked Mr. Candover sternly. “Madame de Vicenza’s steward or secretary, I believe, the man called Johnson.” Audrey glanced up and down again quickly, and saw that Mr. Candover was really disturbed. She went on:-- “I needn’t say that I don’t intend to stay here another night. I only waited till this morning in the hope that Lord Clanfield would come and see me, as I wrote to him at once.” “Why?” asked Mr. Candover sharply. “Because his sons are among the men who have been robbed here.” “Robbed!” His tone was threatening, alarming. But Audrey, strung up to a high pitch of excitement, persisted steadily:-- “Yes. Robbed. So I informed him of what went on here.” “It was a mad thing to do,” said Mr. Candover impatiently. “It was the right thing.” “You have done yourself no good by it,” retorted he angrily. “You see Lord Clanfield did not even answer your letter.” Audrey bit her lip. “Well, I did my duty at any rate. Now I’m going away from this hateful place, and the men who come here will know, once for all, that I have nothing to do with keeping it up.” “You have kept it up for two months,” said he drily. The hot blood rushed into Audrey’s face. “I certainly did not keep up the billiard-room, or allow the play that went on there,” she said sharply. “That can be proved. I had the keys yesterday for the first time.” “Well, it’s easy to _say_ that. Indeed, I should advise you to say it,” said Mr. Candover, with a sudden change to provoking coolness. “But will you get people to believe it? I think the odds are against you.” A cold chill crept along Audrey’s limbs. Was this true? It was, she felt, only too likely to prove so. If she were to assert that she knew nothing of the existence of the room where the late card-playing went on, the servants, who, as she guessed, were all engaged in the nefarious business carried on there, would be ready to swear that she did know. She kept silence. “Of course, in the circumstances, I applaud your resolution to leave the place,” went on Mr. Candover; “though, as you have only ten days longer of your tenancy, to go now looks rather as though you were disgusted at being found out.” “Found out! I! Mr. Candover!”