"Denial will not serve you now," she said. "I have not only your own admissions in the music-room, but the evidence of more than one trustworthy witness, to prove that you circulated a report that my dear father--one of the most honoured and respected citizens of Melbourne--began his Colonial career as--as a transported convict!" After all, as the hapless Peter instantly saw, he _might_ have said so, for anything he knew, in one of those still unexhausted extra quarters of an hour! "If I said so, I was misinformed," he said. "Just so; and in our conversation on the subject, you mentioned the name of the person who used you as his mouthpiece to disseminate his malicious venom. What I wish to know now is, whether you are prepared or not to repeat that statement?" Peter recollected now that he had used expressions implicating Mr. Perkins, although merely as the origin of totally different complications. "I can't positively go so far as that," he said. "I--I made the statement generally." "As you please," she said. "I can merely say that my brother, whom I expect momentarily, is, although an invalid in some respects, a powerful and determined man; and unless you repeat in his presence the sole excuse you have to offer, he will certainly horsewhip you in the presence of the other passengers. That is all, sir!" "Thank you--it's quite enough!" murmured Peter, thinking that Alfred himself could hardly be much more formidable; and he slipped down the companion to the cabin-saloon, where he found Miss Davenport anxiously expecting him. "He is here," she whispered. "I have just seen him through the port-hole." "What--the old lady's brother!" he replied. "He has _no_ sister who is an old lady. I mean Alfred." "_Alfred?_" he almost yelped. "Alfred _here!_" "Of course he is here. Is not his battalion quartered at Gibraltar? You knew it; we were to meet him here!" "I didn't, indeed--or I should never have come!" he protested. "Don't let us waste words now. He is here; he will demand an explanation from you. He has his pistol with him--I could tell by the bulge under his coat. We must both face him; and the question is, What are you going to say?" Peter thrust his hands through his carefully-parted hair: "Say?" he repeated. "I shall tell him the simple, straightforward truth. I shall frankly admit that we have walked, and sat, and talked together; but I shall assure him, as I can honestly, that during the whole course of our acquaintance I have never once regarded you in any other light but that of a friend." "And you suppose that, knowing how I have changed, he will believe that!" she cried. "He will fire long before you can finish one of those fine sentences!"