There was an instant’s dead silence.  Then Forrest, with white face, leaned across the table.

“Who the devil are you?” he asked.

“I am Andrew de la Borne,” Andrew answered, “the owner of these poor estates, which I am very well content to leave for the greater part of the time in my brother’s care, only that he is young, and is liable to make mistakes.  He has made one, sir, I fear, in offering you the hospitality of the Red Hall.”

Forrest rose slowly to his feet.  The Princess held out her hand as though to beg him not to speak.  She turned towards Andrew.

“I do not understand, sir,” she said, “why you have chosen to masquerade under another name, and why you come now to insult your brother’s guests in such a manner.  Is what he says true, Cecil?” she added, turning towards him.  “Is this man your brother?”

“Yes!” Cecil answered sullenly.  “He tells the truth.  It is just like him to make such a thundering idiot of himself.”

“I beg your pardon,” Andrew answered.  “It is not I, Cecil, who desire to come here and say these things to any guest of yours.  It is you who are sheltering under this roof one man at least to whom you should never have offered your hospitality.  The Duke of Westerham, who has been my guest for the last few days, told me all that one needs to know about you, sir, and your career.”

Forrest asked no more questions.  He turned to Cecil.

“Mr. De la Borne,” he said, “I have understood that you were my host, and I appeal to you.  Is this person indeed your elder brother?”

“Yes!” Cecil answered.

“You know what this means,” Forrest continued, speaking to Cecil.  “I cannot remain in this house any longer.  I could only accept hospitality from those who have at least learned to comport themselves as gentlemen.”

Andrew smiled.

“I will not grudge you, sir,” he said, “any reasonable excuse for leaving this house as quickly as may be, but before you go, I insist upon knowing what has become of Lord Ronald.”

Cecil turned towards his brother angrily.

“I am sick of hearing about Engleton!” he declared.  “I tell you that he left here, Andrew, on Wednesday morning, and caught the 9-5 train to London, or at any rate to Peterboro’.  Whether he went north, south, east, or west, is no concern of ours.  We only know that he promised to come back and has not come.”

“There is more to be learnt then,” Andrew answered.  “How did he get to Lynn Station that morning?”

“In the motor car,” Cecil answered.

“Who drove it?” Andrew asked.

“Major Forrest,” Cecil answered.

“It is a lie!” Andrew declared.  “The car never went a hundred yards beyond the gates.  I know that for a fact.”

Again there was silence.  The Princess intervened.

“Mr. Andrew,” she began—­“I beg your pardon, Mr. De la Borne—­ supposing Lord Ronald did wish to keep his departure and the manner of it a great secret, why should it trouble you?  You don’t suppose, I presume, that there has been a fight, or anything of that sort?”