"Nick must not know.

None must know, or I am undone else." Sir Oliver stared, bewildered.

Lionel smiled again that curious twisted, rather frightened smile.
"I gave better than I took, Noll," said he.

"Master Godolphin is as cold by now as the snow on which I left him." His brother's sudden start and the fixed stare from out of his slowly paling face scared Lionel a little.

He observed, almost subconsciously, the dull red wheal that came into prominence as the colour faded out of Sir Oliver's face, yet never thought to ask how it came there.