less. He had removed his cigarette, and
sat looking straight up at him with steely eyes that never changed. When
Jack ceased to speak, there fell a silence that was in a sense more
fraught with conflict than any war of words.

Through it at length came Mordaunt's voice, measured and distinct and
cold. "It is not particularly wise of you to take that tone, but that is
your affair. I have already warned you that you are wasting your time.
Your championship is quite superfluous, and will do no good to anyone.
I think you will see this for yourself when you have taken time to think
it over. Wouldn't it be as well to do so before you go any further--for
your own sake, not for mine?"

"I am not thinking of myself at the present moment," Jack responded
sternly, "or of you. I'm thinking of Chris--and Chris only. Man, do you
want to kill her? For you're going the right way to do it."

The cigarette between Mordaunt's fingers slowly doubled and crumpled into
shapelessness, but the steely eyes never altered. They barred the way
inflexibly to the man's inmost soul. He uttered neither question nor
answer.

But Jack was not to be silenced. "I tell you, she is ill," he said. "I
saw her myself yesterday. She was simply broken down. I never saw such a
change in anyone. I couldn't have credited it. Hilda is horribly anxious
about her. She is going to wire to me here as to her condition."

"Why here?" Very calmly came the question.

Jack explained. Almost in spite of himself his own heat had died down,
cooled by that icy deliberation. "I went to Kellerton yesterday in search
of you, found only Noel there, but had to spend the night as it was late.
I came on by the first train, and wired to Hilda to send her message here
in case you may be wanted. It ought to come through in about an hour."

"And you propose to wait for it?"

"Yes, I do." Jack paused an instant; then, "You must wait too," he said
doggedly. "She isn't very likely to want you, and I've sworn you shan't
frighten her any more; but you shan't abandon her either while there is
the faintest chance that she may want you."

"There is not the faintest." Mordaunt glanced down at the thing that had
once been a cigarette which he still held between his fingers,
contemplated it for a moment, then rose and went to the mantelpiece for
an ash-tray. "You have taken a good deal upon yourself, Jack," he said.
"But I have borne with you because I know that your position is a
difficul