The baronet sat in his library reading a letter from his lawyers, which informed him that Calliston's yacht, the Seamew, had put into a French port for repairs as she had been disabled in a storm, and that they had sent over a clerk to serve the citations at once. The intelligence seemed to afford Sir Rupert the greatest pleasure, and he threw down the paper with a grim smile. He was a tall, fine-looking man of forty-nine, with a soldierly carriage and iron-grey hair.
"She won't find life with Calliston so happy as she did with me," he muttered, walking up and down the room. "He'll not marry her after she is free, and then she'll go from bad to worse. I was a fool to make her my wife; with the instincts she's got she would have been just as satisfied with being my mistress--come in," he said aloud, as a knock came to the door.
It opened and Miss Penfold entered, followed by Norwood, at the sight of whom Sir Rupert seemed surprised, but said nothing.
"This gentleman wishes to speak with you, Sir Rupert," said May, advancing towards the baronet. "He is----"
"A lawyer, I know," replied Sir Rupert, coldly pushing a chair towards his ward, "I've seen him in court--and what is the object of your visit, sir?" he said, turning to Norwood.
"I've called to see you about this arrest of Myles Desmond for the murder of Lena Sarschine," says Norwood, placing his hat on the table.
"I know nothing about him," replied the baronet, looking angrily at May. "Why do you come to me for information?"
"Because we want to save Mr. Desmond's life," said May boldly.
"His life--a murderer?"
"He is no murderer," said the young girl quickly. "Appearances are against him, but he is innocent."