He sought refuge from the direct answer in a side issue. "But if your principles were such that you honestly believed that the good lady had no more right than yourself to her jewels and that only the fear of punishment restrained you from taking possession of them?"

Meriel laughed gaily. "I cannot even conceive such a possibility," she said. "It seems to me you are preaching anarchy, and I'm not the least little bit of an anarchist."

The approach of a third person interrupted Guy's reply. Looking away from Meriel he saw Captain Marven standing beside him. The Captain had heard his niece's concluding words and he corroborated them.

"I can safely swear that a more tyrannical dictator of law and order than Meriel never stepped over a man's threshold. You must accuse her of something else, Hora."

Guy laughed and the subject dropped. But the conversation had made an impression upon him. It had destroyed, though at the time he did not recognise the fact, the delight he had felt in being something apart from other men, the exhilaration of being in conflict with the world. The obvious scorn which the girl felt for the thief, her absolute belief that the idea of theft was as repugnant to him as it was to herself, were deadly blows to the philosophy which Lynton Hora fondly imagined he had planted so deeply as to be ineradicable. Guy felt that his belief was crumbling. He knew that if he were to be true to the man he knew as father he should forswear the bewitching companionship of the girl who exercised so unsettling an influence upon him, nevertheless when a little later Captain Marven asked him to visit them at their country home when the season was over, he accepted eagerly.

CHAPTER XI
GUY FINDS A NEW HOME

In the days that followed the conversation between Guy and Meriel, the young man's disquiet strengthened, though he hid his perturbation successfully enough from the eyes of his daily companions. He met the Marvens frequently, for he could not resist the fascination Meriel exercised upon him. He could see that he was a welcome visitor at the Marvens' house, and yet every time he accepted their hospitality he felt a twinge of regret that Captain Marven should have been a victim of his predatory philosophy, even though the victim had not been personally injured thereby. Instinctively he loathed himself for the treacherous part he appeared to be playing, even though he argued that he had but played a man's part in avenging his father's wrongs.

He would have felt more satisfied if he could have been made acquainted with the nature of those wrongs. But when he had ventured a question on the subject Lynton Hora's brow had wrinkled into a heavy frown, and he had harshly bidden Guy to refer no more to the subject. Nor could he gain the least enlightenment from Meriel, though he had discreetly questioned her regarding her uncle's early life. No suspicion as to his real parentage ever crossed his mind. Meriel had merely referred to the great grief of her relatives' lives in terms which had produced in Guy's mind the idea that their only child had died in infancy. "Poor auntie and uncle lost their only child when he was three years old," she had said, "and even now no one ever dares mention his name in their presence, they feel the loss so acutely. His name was Guy, like yours, and I think that is partly why they seem to like you so much."

From his acquaintance with Captain Marven, Guy could not conceive that the kindly hearted man had ever done anyone a deliberate injury. He began to question the possibility of Hora being possessed of some delusion on the subject and longed the more to be acquainted with the facts in order that he might be in a position to put the misunderstanding right. Since that was hopeless, however, he was profoundly thankful that Hora had insisted upon his taking a residence apart. He had found chambers which suited him in the "Albany," and there he was free to brood over his own mental problems without the possibility of having to meet Lynton Hora's enquiring glance. He no longer felt satisfied with his tutor's philosophy. He was almost afraid to lay bare his new-born doubts to the scorn which the Commandatore would pour upon his heart-searchings. He imagined that the Commandatore had no idea that any conflict was taking place in his mind. He flattered himself that he had long since obtained complete mastery over the expression of his thoughts, that his face was no dial of his emotions but a mask for their concealment. But he did less than justice to his master's perceptive powers. He was not conscious that it needed an effort to remain in the company of the Commandatore, but Lynton Hora perceived it, and realising that Guy was concealing something from him determined to become acquainted with the details of the matter concealed. He had not lost confidence in Guy. He did not imagine that the truth of principles he had so carefully instilled was likely to be questioned. But Captain Marven was so associated with the black days, marked indelibly in his life's calendar, that he could not feel easy in his mind now that he had once more crossed his path. Besides, for the consummation of the revenge he was planning, it was imperative that no nook or corner of Guy's life should be veiled from his sight. That was the real reason why he had suggested Guy's finding an abode for himself. He desired to be made acquainted with Guy's movements, the houses he visited and the companions he affected when away from home. It would have been difficult to set such a watch on Guy, if he had remained at the flat in Westminster, without subjecting himself to inconvenience; but installed in chambers of his own, it would be easy to obtain information.

Hora's first intention had been to keep watch himself on Guy's movements, but consideration decided him to employ some tool for the purpose. His thoughts had lingered for a moment on Myra, but that suggestion also was speedily put aside; she was too passionately interested in Guy to prove a trustworthy spy upon his actions. Hora knew where to look for a reliable tool, for, secretive though he was, averse to allowing any outsider to co-operate with him in the execution of any of his enterprises, yet he had kept in touch with certain of the companions who had worked beside him, groaned under the same harsh discipline, in the days of his expiation. None of them knew him by name. But his face was known to them, and welcomed, for he never appeared amongst them without bringing largesse for their debauches, and, more welcome still, suggestions of places where booty awaited the skilful craftsman with bold heart, and wise words of advice as to the means by which it might be acquired. These denizens of the lower world guessed that their unknown benefactor was of themselves, though moving on a higher plane. The suggestions he made were invariably audacious, but when put into practice they almost as invariably proved successful, so that the unknown became known amongst them as the Master.