?_ I--I--I just missed the point
of the joke," and he glanced at the dagger glittering sinister in the
corner of the stair.

"I have known your mistake all along," cried Olivia. "Oh! it is a
stupid thing this. I will tell you! It is my father should have told you
before."

The clangour of the outer door closing recalled that there was danger
still below. Olivia put a frightened hand on her father's arm. "A
thousand pardons, Montaiglon," cried he; "but here's a task to finish."
And without a word more of excuse or explanation he plunged downstairs.

Count Victor looked dubiously after him, and made no move to follow.

"Surely you will not be leaving him alone there," said Olivia. "Oh! you
have not your sword. I will get your sword." And before he could reply
she had flown to his room. She returned with the weapon. Her hand was
all trembling as she held it out to him. He took it slowly; there seemed
no need for haste below now, for all was silent except the voices of
Doom and Mungo.

"It is very good of you, Mademoiselle Olivia," said he. "I thank you,
but--but--you find me in a quandary. Am I to consider M. le Baron as
ally or--or--or--" He hesitated to put the brutal alternative to the
daughter.

Olivia stamped her foot impetuously, her visage disturbed by emotions of
anxiety, vexation, and shame.

"Oh, go! go!" she cried. "You will not, surely, be taking my father for
a traitor to his own house--for a murderer."

"I desire to make the least of a pleasantry I am incapable of
comprehending, yet his dagger was uncomfortably close to my ribs a
minute or two ago," sard Count Victor reflectively.

"Oh!" she cried. "Is not this a coil? I must even go myself," and she
made to descend.

"Nay, nay," said Count Victor softly, holding her back. "Nay, nay; I
will go if your whole ancestry were ranked at the foot."

"It is the most stupid thing," she cried, as he left her; "I will
explain when you come up. My father is a Highland gentleman."

"So, by the way, was Drimdarroch," said Montaiglon, but that was to
himself. He smiled back into the illumination of the lady's candle,
then descended into the darkness with a brow tense and frowning, and his
weapon prepared for anything.

The stair was vacant, so was the corridor. The outer door was open; the
sound of the sea came in faint murmurs, the mingled odours of pine and
wrack borne with it. Out in the heavens a moon swung among her stars
most queenly and sedate, carel