Captain Bontnor set down his cup very gravely on the table.

"I don't rightly understand," he said sturdily, "this 'rotas'
business. But it seems to me pretty plain that the estate never
belonged to my late brother-in-law. Now what I say is, if the place
belongs by right to Miss Challoner she'll take it. If it don't;
well, then it don't, and she can't accept it as a present from
anybody. Much obliged to you all the same."

The Count laughed pleasantly.

"My dear sir, it is not a present."

The Captain stuffed his hands very deeply into his pockets.

"Then it's worse--it's charity. And she has no need of that. Thank
ye all the same," he replied.

He stared straight in front of him with a vague and rather painful
suggestion of incapability that sometimes came over him. He was
wondering whether he was doing right in this matter.

"If," he added, half to himself, as a sort of afterthought on the
crying question of ways and means--"if it comes to that, I can go to
sea again. There's plenty would be ready to give me a ship."

The Count was still smiling.

"There is no question," he said, "of charity. What has Miss
Challoner done that I should offer her that? I am in ignorance as