“Yes,” said the lad with apparent reluctance.  “Mrs. Macdonald, you will remember that they dragged it out of me, but I will tell you nothing more whatever.”

“It seems to me you have told us quite sufficient and perhaps a trifle too much,” said somebody.

There was a curious silence.  All of those present were more or less acquainted with Courthorne’s past history, and the suggestion of foul play coupled with the mention of a professional gambler had been significant.  Ferris, while committing himself in no way, had certainly said sufficient.  Then there was a sudden turning of heads as a young woman moved quietly into the midst of the group.  She was ominously calm, but she stood very straight, and there was a little hard glitter in her eyes, which reminded one or two of the men who noticed it of those of Colonel Barrington.  The fingers of one hand were also closed at her side.

“I overheard you telling a story, Ferris, but you have a bad memory and left rather too much out,” she said.

“They compelled me to tell them what I did, Miss Barrington,” said the lad, who winced beneath her gaze.  “Now there is really nothing to be gained by going any further into the affair.  Shall I play something for you, Mrs. Macdonald?”

He turned as he spoke and would have edged away, but that one of the men at a glance from the girl laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be in a hurry, Ferris.  I fancy Miss Barrington has something more to tell you,” he said dryly.

The girl thanked him with a gesture.  “I want you to supply the most important part,” she said, and the lad, saying nothing, changed color under the glance she cast upon him.  “You do not seem willing.  Then perhaps I had better do it for you.  There were two men from Silverdale directly concerned in the affair, and one of them at no slight risk to himself did a very generous thing.  That one was Mr. Courthorne.  Did you see him lay a single stake upon a card, or do anything that led you to suppose he was there for the purpose of gambling that evening?”

“No,” said the lad, seeing she knew the truth, and his hoarse voice was scarcely audible.

“Then,” said Maud Barrington, “I want you to tell us what you did see him do.”

Ferris said nothing, and though the girl laughed a little as she glanced at the wondering group, her voice was icily disdainful.

“Well,” she said, “I will tell you.  You saw him question a professional gambler’s play to save a man who had no claim on him from ruin, and, with only one comrade to back him, drive the swindler, who had a pistol, from the field.  He had, you admit, no interest of any kind in the game.”

Ferris had grown crimson again, and the veins on his forehead showed swollen high.  “No,” he said almost abjectly.

Maud Barrington turned from him to her hostess as she answered, “That will suffice, in the meanwhile, until I can decide whether it is desirable to make known the rest of the tale.  I brought the new song Evelyn wanted, Mrs. Macdonald, and I will play it for her, if she would care to try it.”