Sir Eustace turned and swung the door shut; then with less than his customary arrogance he came to Scott. "What's the matter?" he said. "Out with it! Don't break the news if you can help it!"
His eyes belied the banter of his words. They shone as the eyes of a fighter meeting odds. There was something leonine about him at the moment, something of the primitive animal roused from its lair and scenting danger.
He looked into Scott's pale face with the dawning of a threatening expression upon his own.
And Scott met the threat full and square and unflinching. "I've come to tell you," he said, "about the hardest thing one man can tell another. Dinah wishes to be released from her engagement."
His words were brief but very distinct. He stiffened as he uttered them, almost as if he expected a blow.
But Sir Eustace stood silent and still, with only the growing menace in his eyes to show that he had heard.
Several seconds dragged away ere he made either sound or movement. Then, with a sudden, fierce gesture, he gripped Scott by the shoulder. "And you have the damnable impertinence to come and tell me!" he said.
There was violence barely restrained in voice and action. He held Scott as if he would fling him against the wall.
But Scott remained absolutely passive, enduring the savage grip with no sign of resentment. Only into his steady eyes there came that gleam as of steel that leaps to steel.
"I have told you," he said, "because I have no choice. She wishes to be set free, and—she fears you too much to tell you so herself."