"For a very good and sufficient reason, sir."
"Ha, a reason?" said Mr. Chichester, lounging against the mantel.
"Can it be you have discerned at last that the highly dramatic
meeting between father and son at a certain banquet, not so long ago,
was entirely contrived by myself--that it was my hand drove you from
society and made you the derision of London, Mr. Barty?"
"Why, yes," sighed Barnabas; "I guessed that much, sir."
"Indeed, I admire your perspicacity, Mr. Barty. And now, I presume
you have broken into my house with some brutal idea of pummelling me
with your fists? But, sir, I am no prizefighter, like you and your
estimable father, and I warn you that--"
"Sir," said Barnabas softly, "do not trouble to ring the bell, my
mission here is--not to thrash you."
"No? Gad, sir, but you're very forbearing, on my soul you are!" and
Mr. Chichester smiled; but his nostrils were twitching as his
fingers closed upon the bell-rope. "Now understand me--having shown
up your imposture, having driven you from London, I do not propose
to trouble myself further with you. True, you have broken into my
house, and should very properly be shot like any other rascally thief.
I have weapons close by, and servants within call, but you have
ceased to interest me--I have other and weightier affairs on hand,
so you may go, sir. I give you one minute to take yourself back to
your native mud." As he ended, Mr. Chichester motioned airily
towards the open window. But Barnabas only sighed again and shook
his head.
"Sir," said he, more softly than before, "give me leave to tell you
that the Lady Cleone will not keep her appointment here, to-night."
"Ah-h!" said Mr. Chichester slowly, and staring at Barnabas under
his drawn brows, "you--mean--?"
"That she was safe home three-quarters of an hour ago."
Mr. Chichester's long, white fingers writhed suddenly upon the
bell-rope, released it, and, lifting his hand swiftly, he loosened
his high cravat, and so stood, breathing heavily, his eyes once more
narrowed to shining slits, and with the scar burning redly upon his
cheek.
"So you have dared," he began thickly, "you have dared to interfere
again? You have dared to come here, to tell me so?"
"No, sir," answered Barnabas, shaking his head, "I have come here to
kill you!"
Barnabas spoke very gently, but as Mr. Chichester beheld his calm eye,
the prominence of his chin, and his grimly-smiling mouth, his eyes
widened suddenly, his clenched fingers opened, and he reached out
again towards the bell-rope. "Stop!" said Barnabas, and speaking,
levelled his pistol.
"Ah!" sighed Mr. Chichester, falling back a step, "you mean to
murder me, do you?"
"I said 'kill'--though yours is the better word, perhaps. Here are
two pistols, you will observe; one is for you and one for me. And we
are about to sit down--here, at the table, and do our very utmost to
murder each other. But first, I must trouble you to lock the door
yonder and bring me the key. Lock it, I say!"