But Captain Pinckney had recovered his supercilious ease with the significant demand.

“You seem to have had something already from another’s hand, sir, but I am at your service,” he said lightly.

“You will consider that I have accepted it from you,” said Clarence, drawing closer to him with a rigid face.  “I suppose it will not be necessary for me to return it—­to make you understand me.”

“Go on,” said Pinckney, flushing slightly.  “Make your terms; I am ready.”

“But I’m not,” said the unexpected voice of the deputy at the grille of the gateway.  “Excuse my interfering, gentlemen, but this sort o’ thing ain’t down in my schedule.  I’ve let this gentleman,” pointing to Captain Pinckney, “off for a minit to say ‘good-by’ to a lady, who I reckon has just ridden off in her buggy with her servant without saying by your leave, but I didn’t calkelate to let him inter another business, which, like as not, may prevent me from delivering his body safe and sound into court.  You hear me!” As Clarence opened the gate he added, “I don’t want ter spoil sport between gents, but it’s got to come in after I’ve done my duty.”

“I’ll meet you, sir, anywhere, and with what weapons you choose,” said Pinckney, turning angrily upon Clarence, “as soon as this farce—­for which you and your friends are responsible—­is over.”  He was furious at the intimation that Mrs. Brant had escaped him.

A different thought was in the husband’s mind.  “But what assurance have I that you are going on with the deputy?” he said with purposely insulting deliberation.

“My word, sir,” said Captain Pinckney sharply.

“And if that ain’t enuff, there’s mine!” said the deputy.  “For if this gentleman swerves to the right or left betwixt this and Santa Inez, I’ll blow a hole through him myself.  And that,” he added deprecatingly, “is saying a good deal for a man who doesn’t want to spoil sport, and for the matter of that is willing to stand by and see fair play done at Santa Inez any time to-morrow before breakfast.”

“Then I can count on you,” said Clarence, with a sudden impulse extending his hand.

The man hesitated a moment and then grasped it.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said slowly; “but you look as if you meant business, and if you ain’t got anybody else to see you through, I’m thar!  I suppose this gentleman will have his friends.”

“I shall be there at six with my seconds,” said Pinckney curtly.  “Lead on.”

The gate closed behind them.  Clarence stood looking around the empty patio and the silent house, from which it was now plain that the servants had been withdrawn to insure the secrecy of the conspiracy.  Cool and collected as he knew he was, he remained for a moment in hesitation.  Then the sound of voices came to his ear from the garden room, the light frivolity of Susy’s laugh and Hooker’s huskier accents.  He had forgotten they were there—­he had forgotten their existence!