“Pray, tell me what explanation you could give to your mother, to the police, to the newspapers, if you suddenly appeared in Brussels, safe and sound, and yet unable to tell who had been your captors or where you have been held?” he grimly said.

“I would not offer an explanation,” she said, decisively, as if that settled everything.

“But you would be compelled to make some statement, my dear girl.  You couldn’t drop in there as if from the sky and not tell where you have been and with whom.  The truth would be demanded, and you could not refuse.  What would the world, your mother, the prince, think—­”

“Don’t mention that man’s name to me,” she cried.

“Well, what would be the natural conclusion if you refused to give an explanation?  Don’t you see that the papers would make a sensation of the matter?  There is no telling what they would say about you.  The world would jump at the scandal bait, and you would be the most notorious of women, to be perfectly plain with you.  If you refuse to expose the people who abducted you, there could be but one inference.  It would simply mean that you were a party to the plot and fled to evade the wedding at St. Gudule’s.  Upon whom would suspicion fall?  Upon the man who was supposed to have sailed for New York, and upon his friends.  Where have you been during the last few weeks?  If you did not answer, the world would grin and say, ’In New York, and of her own volition!’ Don’t you see, Dorothy, there is but one way to end this horrible mistake of mine?  Only one way to protect you from humiliation, even degradation?”

“You mean by—­” she began, faintly, afraid to complete the dreaded surmise.

“By the surrender of the real criminal,” he said, calmly.

“I will not agree to that!” she cried, imperatively.  “If you give yourself up to them, Philip Quentin, I will deny every word of your confession,” she went on, triumphantly.

“I’m afraid they would doubt you,” he responded, but his heart leaped gladly.

“And do you know what else I shall do if you persist?  I’ll tell the world that you were not alone in this affair, and I’ll send the officers to Castle Craneycrow to arrest every—­” she was crying hysterically, when he interrupted.

“But you have promised to shield them!”

“Promised!  I will forget that I ever made a promise.  Philip Quentin, either I go to Brussels alone or every person in Craneycrow goes to prison with you.  I’ll not spare one of them.  Promise?  What do I care for that promise?  Do as you like, Phil, but I mean every word of it!”

“You wouldn’t dare, Dorothy, you wouldn’t dare!” he cried, imploringly.  “They are not to blame.  I am the guilty one.  They are not—­”

“One way or the other, Phil!” she cried, firmly.  “It is safety for all or disgrace for all.  Now, will you go to Brussels?”

“But, my heavens, how can you explain to the world?” he cried, in deepest distress.