suddenly strode forward and
gripped him by his tattered garment.

"No harm in making inquiries anyway!" he said. "Don't you be in such a
hurry, my friend. It won't do you any harm to come back and give an
account of yourself--that is, if you are harmless."

He pulled the retreating native unceremoniously back into the light. The
man made some resistance, but there was a mastery about Bernard that
would not be denied. Hobbling, misshapen, muttering in his beard, he
returned.

"_Mem-sahib!_" Again Peter's voice spoke, and there was a break in it as
though he pleaded with Fate itself and knew it to be in vain. "He is a
good man, but he is leprous. _Mem-sahib,_ do not look upon him! Suffer
him to go!"

Possibly the words might have had effect, for Stella's rigidity had
turned to a violent shivering and it was evident that her strength was
beginning to fail. But in that moment Bernard broke into an exclamation
of most unwonted anger, and ruthlessly seized the ragged wisp of black
beard that hung down over his victim's hollow chest.

"This is too bad!" he burst forth hotly. "By heaven it's too bad! Man,
stop this tomfool mummery, and explain yourself!"

The beard came away in his indignant hand. The owner thereof
straightened himself up with a contemptuous gesture till he reached the
height of a tall man. The enveloping _chuddah_ slipped back from his
head.

"I am not the fool," he said briefly.

Stella's cry rang through the verandah, and it was Peter who, utterly
forgetful of his own adversity, leapt up like a faithful hound to
protect her in her hour of need.

The glass in Tommy's hand fell with a crash. Tommy himself staggered
back as if he had been struck a blow between the eyes.

And across the few feet that divided them as if it had been a yawning
gulf, Everard Monck faced the woman who had denounced him.

He did not utter a word. His eyes met hers unflinching. They were wholly
without anger, emotionless, inscrutable. But there was something
terrible behind his patience. It was as if he had bared his breast for
her to strike.

And Stella--Stella looked upon him with a frozen, incredulous horror,
just as Tessa had looked upon the snake upon her lap only a little
while before.

In the dreadful silence that hung like a poisonous vapour upon them,
there came a small rustling close to them, and a wicked little head with
red, peering eyes showed through the balustrade of the verandah.

In a moment Scooter