Charlie faced him for a second with his head flung defiantly back, then, as Fisher laid a powerful hand on his shoulder, he stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled a little.

“No, old chap,” he said.  “I’ll apologise to you, if you like.  But you haven’t any right to ask for more.”

“I have a right to know why what you said upset her,” Fisher said.

Charlie shook his head.

“Not the smallest,” he said.  “But I should have thought your imagination might have accomplished that much.  Surely you needn’t grudge the tears of pity a woman wastes over a man she has had to disappoint?”

He spoke with his eyes on Fisher’s face.  He was not afraid of Fisher, yet his look of relief was unmistakable as the hand on his shoulder relaxed.

“You care for her, then?” Fisher said.

Charlie flung impetuously away from him.

“Oh, need we discuss the thing any further?” he said.  “I’m on the wrong side of the hedge, and that’s enough.  I hope you won’t say any more to her about it.  You will only distress her.”

He walked to the end of the room and came slowly back to Fisher, whose eyes were sternly fixed upon him.  He thrust out his hand impulsively.

“Forgive me, old chap!” he said.  “After all, I’ve got the hardest part.”

Fisher’s face softened.

“I’m sorry, boy,” he said, and took the proffered hand.

“I’ll clear out to-morrow,” Charlie said.  “You’ll forget this foolery of mine?” gripping Fisher’s hand hard for a moment.

Fisher did not answer him.  He struck him instead a sounding blow on the shoulder, and Charlie turned away satisfied.  He had played a difficult game with considerable skill.  That it had been a losing game did not at the moment enter into his calculations.  He had not played for his own stakes.

IX

“Jove!  It’s a wild night,” said Archie Croft comfortably, as he stretched out his legs to the smoking-room fire.  “What’s become of Charlie?  He doesn’t usually retire early.”

“I don’t believe he has retired,” said Bertie Richmond sleepily.  “I saw him go out something over an hour ago.”

“Out?” said Croft.  “What on earth for?”

“Up to some fool trick or other, no doubt,” said Fisher from the smoking-room sofa.

“Hullo, Fisher!  I thought you were asleep,” said Bertie.  “You ought to be.  It’s after midnight.  Time we all turned in if we mean to start early with the guns to-morrow.”

Croft stretched himself and rose leisurely.

“It’s a positively murderous night!” he remarked, strolling to the window.  “There must be a tremendous sea.”

He drew aside the blind, staring at the blackness that seemed to press against the pane.  A moment later, with a sharp exclamation, he ripped back the blind and flung the window wide open.  An icy spout of rain and snow whirled into the room.  Richmond turned round to expostulate, but was met by a face of such wild excitement that his protest remained unuttered.