unt of five minutes, and I
had run down my prey in a snug little reception-room of a size to fit two
comfortably. The girl fronted him scornfully, eyes flaming.

"Coward, you play on a girl's fears, you take advantage of her soft heart
to force yourself on her," she was telling him in a low, bitter voice.

"I risk my life to see the woman that I love," he answered.

"My grief! Love! What will such a thing as you be knowing of love?"

The man winced. On my soul I believe that at last he was an honest lover.
His beautiful, speaking eyes looked straight into hers. His mannerisms had
for the moment been sponged out. Straight from the heart he spoke.

"I have learnt, Aileen. My hunger for a sight of you has starved my folly
and fed my love. Believe me, I am a changed man."

The play and curve of her lips stung him. He flung himself desperately
into his mad love-making. "'Belle Marquise, vos beaux yeux me font mourir
d'amour,'" he quoted from Moliere. "'Tis true, Aileen; I die of love; it
burns me up," he added passionately, hungry eyes devouring the flying
colours of her cheek, the mass of rippling hair, the fresh, sweet, subtle
fragrance of her presence.

"You'll have to hurry about it then, for on my soul you're due to die of
tightened hemp to-morrow," I told him, lounging forward from the door.

The girl cried out, eyes dilating, hand pressing to the heart. For the
man, after the first start he did not turn a hair. The face that looked
over his shoulder at me was unmoved and bereft of emotion.

"My malapropos friend Montagu again. Devil take it, you have an awkward
way of playing harlequin when you're not wanted! Now to come blundering in
upon a lady and her friend is-- Well, not the best of form. Better drop it
before it becomes a habit," he advised.

"'Slife, 'tis tit for tat! I learnt it from you," was my answer.

Long we looked at each other, preparing for the battle that was to come.
Save for the quick breathing of the girl no sound fell.

"Sir Robert, your audacity confounds all precedent," I said at last.

"You flatter me, Mr. Montagu."

"Believe me, had Major Macleod discovered you instead of me your soul had
by this time been speeding hellward."

"Exit Flattery," he laughed. "The lady phrased it less vilely. Heavenward,
she put it! 'Twould be interesting to know which of you is right."

"As you say, an interesting topic of speculation, and one you're like to
find the answer of shortly, presupposin