"Why? Can you ask? Have you not told me yourself that my mother made a will before her illness, leaving all that she possessed to Hugo? Depend upon it, he is anxious to get Netherglen. When he hears that I have come back he will be afraid. He knows that I can expose him most thoroughly.

He is quite capable of trying to put an end to my mother's life to-night. And that is what your sister meant."

"Don't forget her warning. Don't go alone," said Vivian.

"You'll come with me, Percival," said Brian. "And you, Fane."

"If Fane and Percival go, you must let me go, too," remarked Vivian, but Brian shook his head, and Elizabeth interposed.

"Will you stay with us, Mr. Vivian? Do not leave Mr. Colquhoun and me alone."

"I'll not be left behind," said Mr. Colquhoun, smartly; "you may depend upon that, Mrs. Brian. You and Mr. Vivian must take care of my wife; but I shall go, because it strikes me that I shall be needed. Four of us, that'll fill the brougham. And we'll put the constable, Macpherson, on the box."

"I must resign myself to be useless," said Vivian, with a smile which had some pain in it.

"Useless, my dear fellow? We should never have been warned but for you,"

answered Brian, giving him a warm grasp of the hand before he hurried off.

In a very short time the carriage was ready. The gentlemen had hastily swallowed some refreshment, and were eager to start. Brian turned back for a moment to bid his wife farewell, and received a whispered caution with the kiss that she pressed upon his face.

"Spare Kitty as much as you can, love. And take care of your dear self"

Then they set out for Netherglen.

The drive was almost a silent one. Each member of the party was more or less absorbed in his own thoughts, and Brian's face wore a look of stern determination which seemed to impose quietude upon the others. It was he who took command of the expedition, as naturally as Percival had taken command of the sailors upon the Rocas Reef.

"We will not drive up to the house," he said, as they came in sight of the white gates of Netherglen. "We should only be refused admittance. I have told the driver where to stop."

"It's a blustering night," said Mr. Colquhoun.

"All the better for us," replied Brian. "We are not so likely to be overheard."

"Why, you don't think that they would keep us out, do you, Brian, my lad? Hugo hasn't the right to do that, you know. He's never said me nay to my face as yet."

"Depend upon it, he won't show," said Percival, contemptuously. "He'll pretend to be asleep, or away from home, or something of the sort."

"I am sure that he will try to keep us out, if he can," said Brian, "and, therefore, I am not going to give him the chance. I think I can get into the house by a side door."

The carriage had drawn up in the shade of some overhanging beech trees whilst they were speaking. The four men got out, and stood for a moment in the road. The night was a rough one, as Mr. Colquhoun had said; the wind blew in fierce but fitful gusts; the sky was covered with heavy, scurrying clouds.

Every now and then the wind sent a great dash of rain into their faces, it seemed as if a tempest were preparing, and the elements were about to be let loose.

"We are like thieves," said Heron, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't care for this style of work. I should walk boldly up to the door and give a thundering peal with the knocker."

"You don't know Hugo as well as I do," responded Brian.

"Thank Heaven, no. Are you armed, Fane?"

"I've got a stick," said Fane, with gusto.

"And I've got a revolver. Now for the fray."

"We shall not want arms of that kind," said Brian. "If you are ready, please follow me."

He led the way through the gates and down the drive, then turned off at right angles and pursued his way along a narrow path, across which the wet laurels almost touched, and had to be pushed back. They reached at last the side entrance of which Brian had spoken. He tried the handle, and gently shook the door; but it did not move. He tried it a second time--with no result.

"Locked!" said Percival, significantly.

"That does not matter," responded Brian. "Look here; but do not speak."

He felt in the darkness for one of the panels of the door. Evidently he knew that there was some hidden spring. The panel suddenly flew back, leaving a space of two feet square, through which it was easy for Brian to insert his hand and arm, draw back a bolt, and turn the key which had been left in the lock. It was a door which he and Richard had known of old. They had kept the secret, however, to themselves; and it was possible that Hugo had never learned it. Even Mr. Colquhoun uttered a faint inarticulate murmur of surprise.

The door was open before them, but they were still standing outside in the wet shrubbery, their feet on the damp grass, the evergreens trickling water in their faces, when an unexpected sound fell upon their ears.

Somewhere, in another part of the building--probably in the front of the house--one of the upper windows was thrown violently open. Then a woman's voice, raised in shrill tones of fear or pain, rang out between the fitful gusts of wind and rain.

"Help! Help! Help!"

There was no time to lose. The four men threw caution to the winds, and dashed headlong into the winding passages of the dark old house.

When Rupert Vivian drove away from Netherglen, Kitty stood for some time in the lane where they had been walking, and gazed after him with painful, anxious interest. The dog-cart was well out of sight before she turned, with a heavy sigh, preparing herself to walk back to the house.

And then, for the first time, she became aware that her husband was standing at some little distance from her, and was coolly watching her, with folded arms and an evil smile upon his face.

"I have been wondering how long you meant to stand there, watching Vivian drive away," he said, advancing slowly to meet her. "Did you ask him about his wife?"

Kitty thought of her conversation with Rupert at Strathleckie--a conversation of which she had kept Hugo in ignorance--and coloured vividly.

"His wife is dead," she said, in a smothered tone.

"Oh, then, you did ask him?" said Hugo, looking at her. "Is that what he came to tell you?"

Kitty did not reply. She had thrown a shawl over her head before coming out, and she stood drawing the edges of it closer across her bosom with nervous, twitching fingers and averted face.

"Why did you come out in that way?" queried her husband. "You look like a madwoman in that shawl. You looked more like one than ever when you ran after that dog-cart, waving your hands for Vivian to stop. He did not want to see you or to be forced into an interview."

"Then you have been watching me?"

"I always watch you. Women are such fools that they require watching.

What did you want to speak to Vivian about?"

"I will not tell you," said Kitty, suddenly growing pale.

"Then it is something that you ought not to have said. I understand your ways by this time. Come here, close to me." She came like a frightened child. "Look at me, kiss me." She obeyed, after some faint show of reluctance. He put his arm round her and kissed her several times, on cheek and brow and lips. "You don't like that," he said, releasing her at last with a smile. "That is why I do it. You are mine now, remember, not Vivian's. Now tell me what you said to him."

"Never!" said Kitty, with a gasp.

A change passed over Hugo's face.