Piers dropped off the step laughing.  “Ye gods!  What fun for Dick Guyes!” he said.

A hand grasped his shoulder, and he turned and saw Lennox Tudor.

“Hullo!” he said, sharply freeing himself.

“I want a word with you,” said Tudor briefly.

A wary look came into Piers’ face on the instant.  He looked at Tudor with the measuring eye of a fencer.

“What about?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you here.  Will you walk back with me?  Lady Evesham has already gone in the car.”

Piers’ black brows went up, “Why was that?  Wasn’t she well?”

“No,” said Tudor curtly.

“But she will send the car back,” said Piers, stubbornly refusing to betray himself.

“No, she won’t.  I told her we would walk.”

“The devil you did!” said Piers.

He turned his back on Tudor, and went into the house.

But Tudor was undaunted.  In a battle of wills, he was fully a match for
Piers.  He kept close behind.

Eventually, Piers turned upon him.  “Look here!  I’ll give you five minutes in the library.  I’m not going to walk three miles with you in this blazing heat.  It would be damned unhealthy for us both.  Moreover, I’ve promised to spend the evening with Colonel Rose.”

It was the utmost he could hope for, and Tudor had the sense to accept what he could get.  He followed him to the library in silence.

They found it empty, and Tudor quietly turned the key.

“What’s that for?” demanded Piers sharply.

“Because I don’t want to be disturbed,” returned Tudor.

He moved forward into the middle of the room and faced Piers.

“I have an unpleasant piece of news for you,” he said, in a grim, emotionless voice.  “That cousin of Guyes’—­you have met him before, I think?  He claims to know something of your past, and he has been talking—­somewhat freely.”

“What has he been saying?” said Piers.

He stood up before Tudor with the arrogance of a man who mocks defeat, but there was a gleam of desperation in his eyes—­something of the cornered animal in his very nonchalance.

A queer touch of pity moved Tudor from his attitude of cold informer.  There was an undercurrent of something that was almost sympathy in his voice as he made reply.

“The fellow was more or less drunk, but I am afraid he was rather circumstantial.  He recognized in you a man who had killed some chum of his years ago, in Queensland.”

“Well?” said Piers.

Just the one word, uttered like a command!  Tudor’s softer impulse passed.

“He was bawling it out at the top of his voice.  A good many people must have heard him.  I was in this room with Lady Evesham.  We heard also.”

“Well?” Piers said again.

He spoke without stirring an eyelid, and again, involuntarily, Tudor was moved, this time with a species of unwilling admiration.  The fellow was no coward at least.