“Oh, what a shame!” said Juliet, a quick vibration of anger in her deep voice.

She leaned forward sharply to open the door and spring out, but in a second Fielding’s hand caught hers, holding her back.

“No, no!  Leave the young beggar alone!  He’s none the worse.  He can pick himself up again.  Ah, and here comes Dick!  He’ll manage him!”

Robin was indeed struggling to his feet with a furious bellowing that might have been heard on the shore.  But Dick was quicker than he.  He came down the path, as it seemed in a single bound.  He took Robin by his swaying arms and steadied him.  He spoke, quickly and decidedly, and the roaring protest died down to a snarling, sobbing sound like the crying of a wounded animal.  Then, still holding him, Dick turned towards the car at the gate.  And Juliet saw that he was white with passion.  The fierce blaze of his eyes was a thing she would not soon forget.

He spoke with twitching lips.  “No, sir.  I’m not coming, thanks.  I shall go on foot over the down.  It’s only a quarter of the distance that way.”  He drew Robin aside at the sound of Jack’s approach behind him, but he did not look at him.  And Robin became suddenly and terribly silent.  He was quivering all over like a dog that is held back from his prey.

Jack gave him a look of contempt as he strode past and returned to his seat at the wheel.  And Juliet awoke to the fact that like Robin she was trembling from head to foot.

The car shot forward.  She saw the two figures no more.  But the memory of Green’s face went with her, its pallor, and the awfulness of his eyes—­the red flame of his fury.  Robin’s unrestrained wrath was of small account beside it.  She felt as if she had never seen anger before that moment.

She scarcely heard the squire’s caustic remarks concerning Robin.  She was as one who had touched a live wire, and her whole being tingled with the shock.  The hot glitter of those onyx eyes had been to her as the sudden revelation of a destroying force, fettered indeed, but how appalling if once set free!

She looked forward with a curious dread to seeing him again.  She wondered if the man who drove the car so recklessly had the faintest suspicion of the storm he had stirred up.  But surely he knew Dick in all his moods!  He had probably encountered it before.  They sped on through the fragrant summer night, and she talked at random, hardly knowing what she said.  If the squire noticed her preoccupation, he made no comment.  He had conceived a great respect for Juliet.

They neared their destination at last, and Jack performed what the squire called his favorite circus-trick, racing the car to the top of the towering cliff and stopping dead at the edge of a great immensity of sea and stars.

Again Juliet drew a deep breath of sheer marvelling delight, speaking no word, held spell-bound by the wonder of the night.

“We needn’t hurry,” Fielding said.  “They won’t be starting yet.”