"Besides," said Victoria, mollified, "you haven't an answered my
question."

"Which question?"

She scrutinized him thoughtfully, and with feminine art made the kind of
an attack that rarely fails.

"Why are you such an enigma, Mr. Vane?" she demanded. "Is it because
you're a lawyer, or because you've been out West and seen so much of life
and shot so many people?"

Austen laughed, yet he had tingling symptoms because she showed enough
interest in him to pronounce him a riddle. But he instantly became
serious as the purport of the last charge came home to him.

"I suppose I am looked upon as a sort of Jesse James," he said. "As it
happens, I have never shot but one man, and I didn't care very much for
that."

Victoria got up and came down a step and gave him her hand. He took it,
nor was he the first to relinquish the hold; and a colour rose delicately
in her face as she drew her fingers away.

"I didn't mean to offend you," she said.

"You didn't offend me," he replied quickly. "I merely wished you to know
that I wasn't a brigand."