ghtening his knees with difficulty, one
hand pressed hard to his labouring heart.

"Egad!" he gasped again. "He's getting out of hand--the cub! But he'll
come to heel,--he'll come to heel! I know the rascal!"

He stumbled to the bell and rang it.

David appeared with a promptitude that seemed to indicate a certain
uneasiness.

"Coffee!" growled his master. "And liqueur!"

David departed at as high a rate of speed as decorum would permit.

During his absence Sir Beverley set himself rigidly to recover his normal
demeanour. The encounter had shaken him, shaken him badly; but he was not
the man to yield to physical weakness. He fought it with angry
determination.

Before David's reappearance he had succeeded in controlling his gasping
breath, though the hand with which he helped himself shook very
perceptibly.

There were two cups on the tray. David lingered.

"You can go," said Sir Beverley.

David cocked one eyebrow in deferential enquiry. "Master Piers in the
garden, sir?" he ventured. "Shall I find him?"

"No!" snapped Sir Beverley.

"Very good, sir." David turned regretfully to the door. "Shall I keep the
coffee hot, Sir Beverley?" he asked, as he reached it, with what was
almost a pleading note in his voice.

Sir Beverley's frown became as menacing as a thunder-cloud. "No!"
he shouted.

David nodded in melancholy submission and withdrew.

Sir Beverley sat down heavily in his chair and slowly drank his coffee.
Finally he put aside the empty cup and sat staring at the closed door,
his brows drawn heavily together.

How had the young beggar dared to defy him so? He must have been getting
out of hand for some time by imperceptible degrees. He had always vowed
to himself that he would not spoil the boy. Had that resolution of his
become gradually relaxed? His frown grew heavier. He had never before
contemplated the possibility that Piers might some day become an
individual force utterly beyond his control.

His eye fell upon a fragment of the broken ruler lying under the table
and again grimly he smiled.

"Confound the scamp! He's got some muscle," he murmured.

Again his look went to the door. Why didn't the young fool come back and
apologize? How much longer did he mean to keep him waiting?

The minutes dragged away, and the silence of emptiness gathered and
brooded in the great room and about the master of the house who sat
within it, with bent head, waiting.

It was close upon ten o'clock w