"You're not afraid of the man?" was my somewhat contemptuous greeting of him.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Are you in the plot?"
"I've done with plots," I said. "I am merely a spectator."
He said nothing about Debora, and I rightly guessed that he had not yet discovered her absence, but had merely concluded that she had retired for the night. After looking at me for a moment or two doubtfully, he took a step or two in my direction, and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Look here," he said, with a nervous glance towards the man in the doorway, "I'm all alone in this house except for a weak girl, and I'm afraid of this fellow. What shall I do?"
"He's smaller than you are," I reminded him. "Turn him out!"
"I'm half afraid to go near him," he said. "You've seen him fly at me on two occasions; he can be like a wild beast when he likes."
"He has said that he will offer you no violence," I replied. "I don't know what he's got in his mind, but it seems to me, if you're afraid to turn him out, you've got to put up with him. He seems very fond of you," I added caustically.
He shot a glance at me, as though wondering what I meant; then turned and walked towards the house. I saw Capper retreat before him, so as to give him free entry to the place. On the door-step he turned, and called out into the darkness to me.
"You, at any rate, can stop outside; one madman is bad enough." Then the door was shut, and I was left to wonder what was going on inside.