t down that damned ladder?" he asked her. "Is it
my fault that I am neither an ape nor an acrobat? Tremayne should have
come up at once to assist me, instead of waiting until he had to come up
to help me bandage my leg again. Then time would not have been lost, and
very likely my life with it." He came to a gloomy conclusion.

"Your life? What do you mean, Dick?"

"Just that. What are my chances of getting away now?" he asked her. "Was
there ever such infernal luck as mine? The Telemachus will sail without
me, and the only man who could and would have helped me to get out of
this damned country is under arrest. It's clear I shall have to shift
for myself again, and I can't even do that for a day or two with my leg
in this state. I shall have to go back into that stuffy store-cupboard
of yours till God knows when." He lost all self-control at the prospect
and broke into imprecations of his luck.

She attempted to soothe him. But he wasn't easy to soothe.

"And then," he grumbled on, "you have so little sense that you want to
run straight off to Terence and explain to him what Tremayne was doing
here. You might at least have the grace to wait until I am off the
premises, and give me the mercy of a start before you set the dogs on my
trail."

"Oh, Dick, Dick, you are so cruel!" she protested. "How can you say such
things to me, whose only thought is for you, to save you."

"Then don't talk any more about telling Terence," he replied.

"I won't, Dick. I won't." She drew him down beside her on the ottoman
and her fingers smoothed his rather tumbled red hair, just as her words
attempted to smooth the ruffles in his spirit. "You know I did didn't
realise, or I should not have thought of it even. I was so concerned for
Ned for the moment."

"Don't I tell you there's not the need?" he assured her. "Ned will be
safe enough, devil a doubt. It's for you to keep to what you told
them from the balcony; that you heard a cry, went out to see what was
happening and saw Tremayne there bending over the body. Not a word more,
and not a word less, or it will be all over with me."

CHAPTER XIV. THE CHAMPION

With the possible exception of her ladyship, I do not think that there
was much sleep that night at Monsanto for any of the four chief actors
in this tragicomedy. Each had his own preoccupations. Sylvia's we
know. Mr. Butler found his leg troubling him again, and the pain of
the reopened wound must have prevented him f