Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "You're cleverer than people think, Bob. Sometimes I was sorry I had begun, but I imagine I would not have stopped if I could. I meant to get rich; to give Flora a high place, and--though the statement looks ironical--to justify myself. Well, I went on until bad luck sent Peters to pull me up." Marston pondered for a moment or two. "Now I understand why the witches in _Macbeth_ made me think about the Bat; they tempted him with lying promises. But I'm not much of a philosopher and we have the Bat to reckon on. Peters doesn't count." "Doesn't he count?" Wyndham asked. "Not at all," said Marston. "When he told me his secret, he lost the power to bully you. The fellow's a fool; he thought me greedy." "But he can tell others, Larrinaga, for example." "That's not important," said Marston quietly. "We don't want to earn more money by helping the Bat. We're going to put things straight, and if Larrinaga's government has a just claim on us, we must pay." "After all, the Bat's my uncle," Wyndham remarked. "Yes," said Marston. "It complicates things. We must go out again and get him away." "Get him away? The man is powerful. I doubt if the government can put him down." "For all that we're going to try." "You're an obstinate fellow, Bob. We'll talk about it again. There is somebody else Peters might tell." "Flora? He'll be too late. You must tell her now." For a moment or two Wyndham's mouth set firm and the sweat stood on his forehead. Then he said quietly, "It will be a hard job, desperately hard; all the same, I suppose it can't be put off. Rupert Wyndham and the powers he stands for have cheated me, but I must pay." Marston made a sign of agreement. "When you have paid, you're free, and can begin again." Then he turned and saw Flora in the narrow path between the bushes. Her face was white, but her eyes were gentle when she looked at him. "Thank you, Bob! We owe you much," she said. Marston pulled himself together and gave her a friendly smile. Then he touched Wyndham's arm, as if to encourage him, and left them alone. CHAPTER VII WYNDHAM PLEADS GUILTY When Marston had gone Flora sat down on the bench. She was pale and trembled. Wyndham, looking very grim, leaned against the wall. They were quiet for a moment or two, and then he asked: "How much did you hear?" "I heard enough," said Flora, with an effort for calm. "I don't understand it all, but I must understand. I heard Bob's voice, sharp and angry, and came to see if you were quarreling with the strange little man. Then I stopped where the shrubs are thick. Perhaps I oughtn't----" "It doesn't matter," Wyndham replied. "Bob urged that you must be told and I think I meant to tell you anyhow. When one is found out, it's better to plead guilty. Well, what do you want to know?" Flora turned her head. His stern coldness hurt. She thought he feared her judgment would be merciless. Harry did not know her yet. "Well?" he said again.