The door opened with a flourish. A waiter entered with a card.

Saltash barely looked at him. His eyes flashed beyond to the open doorway. "You can come in," he remarked affably. "We've been expecting you for some time."

Jake entered. His square frame seemed to fill the s.p.a.ce between the door-posts. He was empty-handed, but there was purpose--grim purpose--in every line of him.

Saltash dismissed the waiter with a jerk of the eyebrows. He was utterly unabashed, amazingly self-a.s.sured. He met Jake's stern eyes with cheery effrontery.

"Quite like old times!" he commented. "The only difference being, my good Jake, that on this occasion I have reached the winning-post first."

Jake's look went beyond him to the slight figure by the table. Toby was on her feet. Her face was flushed, but her eyes were wide and defiant. He regarded her steadily for several seconds before, very deliberately, he transferred his attention to Saltash, who nonchalantly awaited his turn, tapping the cigarette on the lid of his case with supreme indifference.

Jake spoke, his voice soft as a woman's, yet strangely dominating. "I should like two minutes alone with you--if you can spare them."

Saltash was smiling. His glance shot towards Toby, and came back to Jake with a certain royal arrogance that held its own without effort. "In other words, you wish--Lady Saltash--to leave us?" he questioned easily.

"I'm not going," said Toby quickly, with nervous decision.

Her hands were tightly clasped in front of her. She stood as one strung to the utmost limit of resistance.

Jake did not again look at her. His eyes were upon Saltash, and they never wavered. "Alone with you," he repeated, with grim insistence.

Saltash regarded him curiously. His mouth twitched mockingly as he put the cigarette between his lips. He held out the case to Jake in mute invitation.

Jake's look remained fixed. He ignored the action, and the case snapped shut in Saltash's hand with a sharp sound that seemed to denote a momentary exasperation. But Saltash's face still retained the monkey-like expression of calculated mischief habitual to it.

"Bunny with you?" he enquired casually, producing a match-box.

"No." Very quietly came Jake's answer. "I have come to see you--alone."

Saltash lighted his cigarette, and blew a careless cloud of smoke. "Are you proposing to shoot me?" he asked, after a pause.

"No," said Jake grimly. "Shooting's too good for you--men like you."

Saltash laughed, and blew another cloud of smoke. "That may be why I have survived so long," he remarked. "I don't see the horsewhip either. Jake, my friend, you are not rising to the occasion with becoming enthusiasm.

Any good offering you a drink to stimulate your energies?"

"None whatever," said Jake, still very quietly. "I don't go--till I have what I came for--that's all. Neither do you!"

"I--see!" said Saltash.

An odd little gleam that was almost furtive shone for a second in his eyes and was gone. He turned and crossed the room to Toby.

"My dear," he said, "I think this business will be more quickly settled if you leave us."

She looked at him piteously. He took her lightly by the arm, and led her to a door leading to an adjoining room. "By the time you have smoked one cigarette," he said, "I shall be with you again."

She turned with an impulsive attempt to cling to him. "You'll--keep me?"

she said, through trembling lips.

He made a royal gesture that frustrated her with perfect courtesy. "Are you not my wife?" he said.

He opened the door for her, and she had no choice but to go through. She went swiftly, without another glance, and Saltash closed the door behind her.

CHAPTER II

THE VILLAIN SCORES

"Now, sir!" said Saltash, and turned. His tone was brief; the smile had gone from his face. He came to Jake with a certain haughtiness, and stood before him.

Jake squared his shoulders. "So--you've married her!" he said.

"I have." There was a note of challenge in the curt rejoinder. Saltash's brows were drawn.

"I should like to see--proof of that," Jake said, after a moment.

"The devil you would!" Again the hot gleam shone in the odd eyes. Saltash stood for a second in the att.i.tude of a man on the verge of violence.

Then, contemptuously, he relaxed.

He lounged back against the mantel-piece and smoked his cigarette. "The devil you would, Jake!" he said again, in a tone so different that the words might have been uttered in another language. "And why--if one be permitted to ask?"

"I think you know why," Jake said.

"Oh, do I? You virtuous people are always the first to suspect evil."

Saltash spoke with deliberate cynicism. "And suppose the marriage is not genuine--as you so politely hint--what then, my worthy Jake? What then?"

Jake faced him unwaveringly. "If not," he said, "she goes back with me."

Saltash's eyes suddenly flashed to his, but he did not alter his position. "Sure of that?" he asked casually.

"Sure!" said Jake.

"And if I refuse to part with her? If she refuses to go?"

"Either way," said Jake immovably.

"And why?" Saltash straightened suddenly. "Tell me why! What in h.e.l.l has it got to do with you?"

"This," said Jake. "Just the fact that she's a girl needing protection and that I--can give it."

"Are you so sure of that?" gibed Saltash. "I think you forget, don't you, that I was her first protector? No one--not even Bunny--could have got near her without my consent."

"She was your find right enough," Jake admitted. "I always knew that--knew from the first you'd faked up a lie about her. But I hoped--I even believed--that you were doing it for her sake--not your own."

"Well?" flung Saltash. "And if I was?"