"You are right," said Harry. "This is the third encounter. Twice you have worsted me—have you never heard that the third time the luck changes? This is my round—cover him, Anne."
I was all ready. In a flash I had whipped the pistol out of my stocking and was holding it to his head. The two men guarding Harry sprang forward, but his voice stopped them.
"Another step—and he dies! If they come any nearer, Anne, pull the trigger—don't hesitate."
"I shan't," I replied cheerfully. "I'm rather afraid of pulling it, anyway."
I think Sir Eustace shared my fears. He was certainly shaking like a jelly.
"Stay where you are," he commanded, and the men stopped obediently.
"Tell them to leave the room," said Harry.
Sir Eustace gave the order. The men filed out, and Harry shot the bolt across the door behind them.
"Now we can talk," he observed grimly, and coming across the room, he took the revolver out of my hand.
Sir Eustace uttered a sigh of relief and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
"I'm shockingly out of condition," he observed. "I think I must have a weak heart. I am glad that revolver is in competent hands. I didn't trust Miss Anne with it. Well, my young friend, as you say, now we can talk. I'm willing to admit that you stole a march upon me. Where the devil that revolver came from I don't know. I had the girl's luggage searched when she arrived. And where did you produce it from now? You hadn't got it on you a minute ago?"
"Yes, I had," I replied. "It was in my stocking."
"I don't know enough about women. I ought to have
