“Which of these chairs shall I sit in, Fenton?”

“This one,” I replied instantly, pointing to the one I had just quit.

Smiling, he selected a chair a few feet away.

Whereupon I congratulated myself.  The man feared me, then; yet he ranked my mentality no higher than that!  In other words, remarkably clever though he might be, and as yet unthwarted, he could by no means be called omnipotent.

“For your benefit, Mr. Jerome, let me say that I phoned Miss Fenton and her brother a few days ago, and urged them to give up their notion of occupying this house or of attempting to solve the mystery that you are already acquainted with.  And I prophesied, Mr. Jerome, that their refusal to accept my advice would be followed by events that would justify me.

“They refused, as you know; and I am here tonight to make a final plea, so that they may escape the consequences of their wilfulness.”

“You’re a crook!  And the more I see of you, Avec, the more easily I can understand why they turned you down!”

“So you too, are prejudiced against me.  I cannot understand this.  My motives are quite above question, I assure you.”

“Really!” I observed sarcastically.  I stole a glance at Ariadne; her eyes were still riveted, in a rapt yet half-fearful abstraction, upon the face of the Rhamda.  It was time I took her attention away.

I called her name.  She did not move her head, or reply.  I said it louder:  “Ariadne!”

“What is it, Hobart?”—­very softly.

“Ariadne, this gentleman possesses a great deal of knowledge of the locality from which you came.  We are interested in him, because we feel sure that, if he chose to, he could tell us something about our friends who—­about Harry Wendel.”  Why not lay the cards plainly on the table?  The Rhamda must be aware of it all, anyhow.  “And as this man has said, he has tried to prevent us from solving the mystery.  It occurs to me, Ariadne, that you might recognise this man.  But apparently—­”

She shook her head just perceptibly.  I proceeded: 

“He is pleased to call his warning a prophecy; but we feel that a threat is a threat.  What he really wants is that ring.”

Ariadne had already, earlier in the hour, given the gem several curious glances.  Now she stirred and sighed, and was about to turn her eyes from the Rhamda to the ring when he spoke again; this time in a voice as sharp as a steel blade: 

“I do not enjoy being misunderstood, much less being misrepresented, Mr. Fenton.  At the same time, since you have seen fit to brand me in such uncomplimentary terms, suppose I state what I have to say very bluntly, so that there may be no mistake about it.  If you do not either quit this house, or give up the ring—­now—­you will surely regret it the rest of your lives!”

From the corner of my eye I saw Jerome moving slowly in his chair, so that he could face directly towards the Rhamda.  His hands were ready for the swift, upward jerk which, I knew, would stifle our caller.