Deppingham put his eyeglass in more firmly and stared at his companion, not knowing whether to take the remark as a jest or to begin to look for signs of mental collapse.  Britt laughed shortly.

“I guess we’ll have to,” said the stubby lawyer.

After satisfying themselves that there was no possibility of the enemy ever being able to enter the chateau through the collapsed passage, the trio returned to the upper world.

Involuntarily their gaze went out searchingly over the placid sea.  The whole sky glared back at them, unwrinkled, smokeless, cloudless.  Chase turned to Deppingham, a word of encouragement on his lips.  His lordship was looking intently toward the palm-shaded grotto at the base of the lower terrace.  Britt moved uneasily and then glanced at his fellow-countryman, a queer expression in his eyes.  A moment later Deppingham was clearing his throat for the brisk comment on the beauty of the view from the rather unfrequented spot on which they stood.

Robert Browne and Lady Agnes were seated on the edge of the fountain in Apollo’s Grotto, conversing earnestly, even eagerly, with Mr. Bowles, who stood before them in an unmistakable attitude of indecision and perturbation.  Deppingham’s first futile attempt to appear unconcerned was followed by an oppressive silence, broken at last by the Englishman.  He gave Chase a look which plainly revealed his uneasiness.

“Ever since I’ve heard that Bowles has the power to marry people, Chase, I’ve been upset a bit,” he explained nervously.

“You don’t mean to say, Lord Deppingham, that you’re afraid the heirs will follow the advice of that rattle-headed Saunders,” said Chase, with a laugh, “Why, it wouldn’t hold in court for a second.  Ask Britt.”

Britt cleared his throat.  “Not for half a second,” he said.  “I’m only wondering if Bowles has authority to grant divorces.”

“I daresay he has,” said Deppingham, tugging at his moustache.  “He’s—­he’s a magistrate.”

“It doesn’t follow,” said Chase, “that he has unlimited legal powers.”

“But what are they ragging him about down there, Chase,” blurted out the unhappy Deppingham.

“Come in and have a drink,” said Chase suddenly.  Deppingham was shivering.  “You’ve got a chill in that damp cellar.  I can assure you positively, as representative of the opposition, that the grandchildren of Skaggs and Wyckholme are not going to divorce or marry anybody while I’m here, Britt and Saunders and Bowles to the contrary.  And Lady Deppingham is no fool.  Come on and have something to warm the cockles.  You’re just childish enough to have the croup to-night.”  He said it with such fine humour that Deppingham could not take offence.

“All right, old chap,” he said with a laugh.  “I am chilled to the bone.  I’ll join you in a few minutes.”  To their surprise, he started off across the terrace in the direction of the consulting trio.  Chase and Britt silently watched his progress.  They saw him join the others, neither of whom seemed to be confused or upset by his appearance, and subsequently enter into the discussion that had been going on.