“Then the man spoke in a more audible voice, a voice which in a flash I recognized as Henshaw’s.  And his first words caught my attention with an unpleasant grip.”

CHAPTER XXI

GIFFORD CONTINUES HIS STORY

“’Failing to get the regular invitation I had a right to expect, I have had to take this mode of seeing you,’ I just caught the words in Henshaw’s metallic, rather penetrating voice.

“The lady’s reply was given in a tone so low that at the distance I stood the words were indistinguishable.

“‘Unmanly?’ he exclaimed, evidently taking up her word.  ’I don’t admit that for a moment.  You know how we stand to one another and what my feelings are towards you.  It is no use for you to try to ignore them or me.  I won’t stand being treated like this.  There is no reason why my advances should be repulsed as though they were an insult.’

“I caught the last words of the lady’s reply:  ’—­good reason, and you know it.’

“It was more than clear to me now that I was to be the witness of a very hateful piece of business.  The man’s tone, even more than his words, made my blood boil, and I began to congratulate myself on being thus accidentally in a position to protect, if need be, the girl whom this fellow was evidently bullying.  With the utmost care I crept nearer to the small curtained arch which admitted to the larger room.  The pitch darkness of the little turret chamber in which I stood made me feel quite safe from observation.  And I had no qualms now about eavesdropping; the situation surely justified it.

“I went forward till I could get a sight round the arch of the two persons in the room.  They were standing near the window at some distance from me.  In the obscurity, not quite as impenetrable as that out of which I looked, I could distinguish the tall figure of the girl in a dark ball-dress, and facing her, towards me, the big form of Henshaw.”

“You had no idea who the lady was?” Edith Morriston interrupted him to ask.

“Naturally not the vaguest,” Gifford answered.  “When I had gone as far as was safe, I set myself to listen again.

“’I don’t know what your game is or whether you think you can play the fool with me,’ Henshaw was saying in an ugly tone.  ’But I warn you not to try it; I am not a man to be fooled.  Now let us be friends again,’ he added in a softer tone.

“It seemed as though he put out his hand for a caress, for the girl started back and I heard her say ‘Never!’

“‘Folly!’ he exclaimed.  Then took a step forward.  ’You are in love with another man?’ he demanded.  I could hear the hiss of the question.

“‘If I were I should not tell you,’ was the defiant reply in a low voice.

“‘You would not?’ he snapped viciously.  ’Let me tell you this, then.  You shall never marry another man while I live.  I hold the bar to that, as you will find.’