“I am silly,” she faltered, “but the servants and everything—­they won’t come back, will they?”

He laughed as he patted her hand.

“We shan’t see another soul, dear,” he assured her.

She laid her cheek against his.

“How hot your face feels,” she exclaimed.  “Throw open the window, do.  I shan’t feel it.”

He obeyed her at once.  The roar of the city, all its harshness muffled, came to them in a sombre, almost melodious undernote.  She rested her hands upon his shoulder.

“What children we are!” she murmured.  “Now it’s you who are trembling!  Sit down, please.  You’ve been so brave these last few days.”

“It was just for a moment,” he told her.  “It seems too wonderful.  I had a sudden impulse of terror lest it should all be snatched away.”

She laughed easily.

“I don’t think there’s any fear of that, dear,” she said.  “Perhaps—­”

There was a little knock at the door.  Philip, who had been holding Elizabeth’s chair, stood as though transfixed.  Elizabeth gripped at the side of the table.  It was some few seconds before either of them spoke.

“It’s perhaps—­Beatrice,” Elizabeth faltered.

The knock was repeated.  Philip drew a little breath.

“Come in,” he invited.

The door opened slowly towards them and closed again.  It was Mr. Dane who had entered.  From outside they caught a momentary glimpse of another man, waiting.  Mr. Dane took off his hat.  For a man with so expressionless a countenance, he was looking considerably perturbed.

“Miss Dalstan,” he said, “I am very sorry, believe me, to intrude.  I only heard of your marriage an hour ago.  I wish I could have prevented it.”

“Prevented it?” Elizabeth repeated.  “What do you mean?”

“I think that Mr. Philip Romilly could explain,” Dane continued, turning towards Philip.  “I am sorry, but I have received an imperative cable from Scotland Yard, and it is my duty to arrest you, Philip Romilly, and to hold you, pending the arrival of a special police mission from England.  I am bound to take note of anything you may say, so I beg of you not to ask me any particulars as to the charge.”

The colour slowly faded from Elizabeth’s cheeks.  She had risen to her feet and was gripping the mantelpiece for support.  Philip, however, was perfectly calm.  He poured out a glass of water and held it to her lips.

“Drink this, dear,” he begged, “and don’t be alarmed.  It sounds very terrible, but believe me there is nothing to be feared.”

He swung suddenly round to Dane.  His voice shook with passion.

“You’ve kept me under observation,” he cried, “all this time.  I haven’t attempted to escape.  I haven’t moved from New York.  I haven’t the slightest intention of doing so until this thing is cleared up.  Can’t you take my parole?  Can’t you leave me alone until they come from England?”