Barrant hastened from the room downstairs to the front door.

From the open doorway he saw Charles Turold advancing across the rocks in the direction of the house, and he ran swiftly down the gravel path to intercept him.
Charles looked up and came on as if there was nothing to turn back for.
His clear glance dwelt on the figure by the gate without fear--with seeming gratification.

Barrant was amazed.

He had been prepared for an attempt at flight, but not this welcoming look.

Never before had he known a man show joy at the prospect of arrest.