"The husband of this woman and the master of this house," said Clarence
as quietly, but in a voice he hardly recognized as his own.

"Stand aside from her, then--unless you are hoping that her danger may
protect YOU!" said the Kentuckian, significantly drawing his revolver.

But Mrs. Brant sprang suddenly to her feet beside Clarence.

"We are neither of us cowards, Mr. Brooks--though he speaks the
truth--and--more shame to me"--she added, with a look of savage scorn at
Clarence--"IS MY HUSBAND!"

"What is your purpose in coming here?" continued Judge Beeswinger, with
his eyes fixed on Clarence.

"I have given you all the information," said Clarence quietly, "that
is necessary to make you, as a gentleman, leave this house at once--and
that is my purpose. It is all the information you will get from me
as long as you and your friends insult my roof with your uninvited
presence. What I may have to say to you and each of you hereafter--what
I may choose to demand of you, according to your own code of honor,"--he
fixed his eyes on Captain Pinckney's,--"is another question, and one not
usually discussed before a lady."

"Pardon me. A moment--a single moment."

It was the voice of Colonel Starbottle; it was the frilled shirt front,
the lightly buttoned blue coat with its expanding lapels, like bursting
petals, and the smiling mask of that gentleman rising above the table
and bowing to Clarence Brant and his wife with infinite courtesy.