"Who?" asked Charlotte.
"How—How—Howard Lynden."
Now it was her turn to recoil. The sternness of her countenance gave way to a mingled look of amazement and incredulity. She laughed a little wildly.
"How ridiculous! I see now; it is merely a vulgar joke—some spite which this wretched creature is trying to vent upon you, Mobley."
Now that the tension was broken, McCaleb felt that he could again make himself heard.
"Indeed, Miss Fairchild, it is no joke," earnestly. "If Adams, here, should try such a game, he would find it the worse for him, as he knows very well."
"You'll see how much of a joke it is," muttered Adams, with a malignant look at the Doctor. But McCaleb went on, ignoring him.
"However unpleasant it may be, I have the warrant issued in proper form, and, one way or another, I must serve it."
What next occurred banished from the minds of all everything that had preceded it.
The door noiselessly swung open and revealed the large figure and the impassive features of Captain John Converse.