"It is true, nevertheless," says the old man.
"She shall answer with her own lips," cries Mr. Sheldrake, with a menacing gesture.
"She will never again open her lips to you. I speak for her."
"Old dotard! But she shall answer!"
The arm he raises to put the old man aside is seized by a stronger hand than his, and he is thrust back violently.
"O!" he sneers, as he recognises Felix. "Are there any more of you?"
"One other," replies Felix, with a smile. "You shall see him presently."
For a moment Mr. Sheldrake measures himself with Felix; the conclusion he arrives at in this hasty glance is not assuring. Felix stands before him as firm as a rock, and with a kindling light in his eyes, which warns him to be careful of himself. He heeds the warning, and says in as calm a voice as he can command,
"This is a plot, then!"
"If you please to call it so," is the answer. "Plot against plot, we will say. Yours has failed."