LADY CREECH [indignantly].  Is your mind wandering?  The priory belonged to Hawcastle’s mother.  Can you state its connection with the subject?

PIKE.  That’s how he protected the historic name of St. Aubyn!  That’s the name he took—­Glenwood!

LADY CREECH.  What of that?

PIKE [awe-struck].  God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform!

LADY CREECH.  Oblige me by omitting blasphemous allusions in my presence.  What answer are you prepared to make to Lord Hawcastle?

PIKE [in a ringing voice].  Tell your brother-in-law that he can have my answer in ten minutes—­and he can come to me here for it!  I’ll give it in the presence of the young lady and her brother.

LADY CREECH [turning to go].  Her brother—­certainly!  He is in perfect sympathy with our attitude.  As for Miss Granger-Simpson’s knowing anything of this most disagreeable affair—­no!

PIKE.  I beg your pardon.

LADY CREECH.  I shall not permit her to come near here.  As her chaperone
I refuse.  We all refuse!

PIKE.  All right; refuse away.

LADY CREECH.  I shall tell Lord Hawcastle—­

PIKE.  Ten minutes from now and in this room.

LADY CREECH.  But Miss Granger-Simpson under no condition whatever.

[Sweeps out haughtily.]

[PIKE closes the doors behind her, touches an electric button over the mantel, then sits at desk and writes hurriedly.  Knock at upper doors.]

PIKE.  Come in!

[Enter MARIANO.]

PIKE.  Mariano, I want you to take this note to Miss Simpson.

[Quickly enclosing note in envelope and addressing it.]

MARIANO.  To Mees Granger-Seempson?

PIKE.  Do you know where she is?

MARIANO.  She walks on the terrace alone.

PIKE.  Give it to her yourself—­to no one else—­[emphatically]—­and do it now.

[Gives him the note.]

MARIANO.  At once, sir!

[Going.]

PIKE.  Hurry!

[Almost pushes him out of the upper doors and closes them.  He goes quickly to the door on the right, opens it, and calls.]

Ivanoff!

[IVANOFF opens the door and comes out apprehensively.]

IVANOFF [as he enters].  Have they come?

PIKE.  Not yet!  Ivanoff, you prayed to see your wife and your friend
Glenwood before you went back to Siberia.

IVANOFF [falling back with a cry].  Ah!

PIKE.  If that prayer is answered through me, will you promise to remember that it’s my fight?

IVANOFF.  Ah! it is impossible—­you wish to play with me!

PIKE.  Do I look playful?

[A bugle sounds sharply outside the window.]

IVANOFF [wildly].  The carabiniere—­for me.

[The two rush together to the window.]

PIKE [thrusting IVANOFF behind him].  Don’t show yourself!

IVANOFF. [looking out of the window over PIKE’S shoulder].  Look!  Near the lamp yonder—­there by the doors—­the carabiniere.