She touched with her lips the back of the toil-stained hand.
And she, having sealed her abdication in such wise, looked up into his flushed face with a swift, shy smile, the flutter of the fledgling hope in her heart stirring softly the priceless lace that outlined her bosom, and the little golden locket that lay therein.
"You're my brother—my step-brother, now, aren't you, Mr. Brasse?" she asked, almost in a whisper.
"It seems so, Sallie," he answered mechanically, his wandering wits almost beyond his control. Her unconscious use of the name by which she had always known him had brought to his mental vision a blurred picture of her on the bridge of the Olive Branch in a stiff breeze, himself at the fiddley-hatch.
"And everything that might have been mine is yours now?"
"Ours," he corrected, without any interest, as if that was of no consequence. "There should be enough for us both; and, in any case, I need very little—now."
"But it's all yours by law, isn't it?" she urged. "I must make sure, because—" She looked back, over her shoulder. Mr. Jobling had joined Slyne and Captain Dove; the three of them were engaged, with bated breaths, in a sibilant argument, their heads very close together. Lord Ingoldsby had just risen and was slouching over to the other ingle-nook, where the duchess had made Herries sit down. Only Justin Carthew remained motionless, half turned in his high-backed chair, leaning heavily on one of its arms while he still stared, almost unseeingly, at Sallie and her companion.
"How does that fellow come to be here?" asked the ex-engineer, indicating Carthew with a puzzled nod, and, as Sallie told him what had occurred since she herself had arrived at Loquhariot, his expression grew always more blank again. But when she went on to explain how Slyne had tried to entrap her for his own profit, his dull eyes brightened and began to burn.
"And now," she said at last, "perhaps he won't want to marry me—when there's nothing to be gained by it. I can't tell you how thankful I am that you've come home in time."
Carthew got up from the table then and came limping forward to greet the man whose belated home-coming had made such a difference to him. And Mr. Jobling, evidently fired by his example, followed, to beg an introduction from her ladyship to his lordship.
"I've been acting for Lady Josceline, my lord," he explained very volubly, having thus secured his lordship's by no means favourable attention, "just as I would have been most happy to act for your lordship if I had known—" He came to a sudden stop, except for a stifled, explosive hiccough, as Captain Dove shouldered him aside and confronted the ex-engineer of the Olive Branch with his most sleek, benevolent expression.
Slyne was close behind Captain Dove. The pallor had passed from his face. Mr. Jobling apparently did not deem it politic to push in again just then. He choked down his not unnatural indignation and stayed hovering about, very ill at ease, in the background. The others, all but Sallie, had also moved a little away.
But it did not seem to be Captain Dove's idea to exchange any quiet confidences with his late chief-engineer. What he had to say was for all ears. Without witnesses he would, no doubt, have conducted himself very differently. Handicapped as he was by their company, he had no recourse but to enlist their sympathies on his side.
"Well, if this doesn't beat all for luck!" said he in a tone of the extremest gratification, his visible features wreathed in an unctuous smile. "I don't suppose you're sorry now that you came ashore when I sent for you, eh! You must admit that I've managed a very pleasant little surprise for you—"
"You've managed nothing—except to put your own neck into a noose at last," retorted Lord Jura. He was standing very erect although he could not control the nervous tremor at the back of his neck. He saw no need now to mince matters with the old man, whose callous effrontery was stirring his sluggish pulses to such a pitch that he could scarcely resist the dire temptation to spring at his throat and choke the evil life out of him there and then. But a light hand laid on his arm diverted him for a moment from any such insane idea, and his unreasoning rage died down a little as he looked round into Sallie's appealing eyes.
"How long will it take to get the police here, Herries?" he asked abruptly over one shoulder. And, at that, the arras in the dark corner beside the Pipers' Port swayed slightly, as though there were some one behind it about to come forth.
"The telegraph-wire is down, my lord," the old factor answered doubtfully, "and—it would maybe be wasting a life to send anyone to attempt the Pass with a message in weather like this. But—till we can safely get word to the police, there are lots of stout lads in Loquhariot that will do your lordship's bidding."
"And more on board the Olive Branch that will do mine," Captain Dove interrupted, with a smooth assurance which could not but add to the listeners' perturbation. "Da Costa has his orders, too. It will be a bad look out for Loquhariot if ever he and his lambs have to come ashore here to look for me. You've seen them crack far harder nuts than this ramshackle old castle of yours! You know very well—
"But what's the use of arguing about it? You owe me far too much to talk in that style. If you could fetch the police here at this moment, you couldn't afford to face them. You've surely forgotten—"
"I have forgotten nothing," Lord Jura assured him, in a steady, ominous voice.
"That's just as well," declared Captain Dove, who seemed determined to stand his ground, "because it will save me reminding you, before your fashionable friends, how much I've done for you, first and last, since I picked you up derelict on the beach at Yedo. You'd have been very badly off without me then, eh! And, but for me, you'd maybe have come to a worse end than starving, since. I've brought you back to your own, when all's said and done. It doesn't say much for you, Lord Jura, that you'd turn round on me now!"
He spoke pathetically, as one disappointed in the return made him for favours lavished with a free hand. And such of the others as did not know the real facts of the matter looked somewhat doubtfully at Lord Jura. Captain Dove was obviously pleased with the impression he had produced.
"Everything you have done has been done entirely to serve your own ends," the ex-engineer answered him in few words. "I owe you no favour—not the very slightest. You owe me God knows how many years of my life that you've tricked me out of. And, what's more—"
"And what's more," Captain Dove interrupted, "you think you owe me only a grudge. You've no more use for me now that I've served your turn. I've asked nothing of you, you'll notice. It's only because you've thought fit to threaten me that I've reminded you—"
"There was no need," Lord Jura asserted. "I have forgotten nothing. You can tell your side of the story to the judge at the next assizes—and I'll tell mine."
Mr. Jobling's puffy face blanched at that, but Captain Dove did not even change countenance.
"So much for yourself," said he patiently. "You think you can best whiten your own record by trying to blacken mine. I'll say no more about that—except that it isn't always true that dead men tell no tales. And you'll have to tell the judge at the next assizes the real reason why you ran away from home."
He was watching the other's face narrowly, to see what effect that stray shot might have, and was clearly encouraged at seeing Lord Jura wince.
"But there's another point to be settled," he went on with slow insistence, "before we go any further. I've brought you back to your own, as I said, and, more than that, I've brought you back—your sister. I wouldn't have made any song-an'-dance about such a small matter either, but—since it's to be debit and credit between us, I'd like to know how you think that affects the account.
"You say you've forgotten nothing. Have you remembered that I've brought her up, so to speak, since she was knee-high to me? Have you ever thought where she'd be to-day if I hadn't—But, of course, you don't know where I came across her. And I'm not going to tell you just now. All I will say is that it rests absolutely in my hands whether—whether she stays safe here with you or—You may believe me or not, as you like, but—Better talk it over with her before you go any further,—my lord!"
He frowned, as if warningly, at Sallie, and turned on his heel and, swaggering back to the table, grotesquely aggressive, sat down again with his back to them all, leaving them to make whatever they liked of his veiled threat and half-spoken hints as to his mysterious power over her. Slyne followed him. But Mr. Jobling pushed forward again, eager to establish himself on a safer footing of service to the other side.
"If your lordship will allow me," said he, his head on one side, shoulders bent and hands clasped, "I think I can undertake to arrange matters for you with Captain Dove. Some small money payment, perhaps, would save further unpleasantness—for her ladyship as well. We can scarcely contest his claim for at least the amount of—"
"I don't know what you're talking about—or what business it is of yours!" said Lord Jura sharply and turned to give Herries some order. But, before he could speak, Sallie claimed his attention again.
"Let them go," she implored of him vehemently. "Oh, please let them go. Don't send for the police. I couldn't bear to think that they had come to any harm through helping me—even for their own purposes. And some of what Captain Dove says is true enough: he's looked after me for longer than I can remember, almost—and but for him I wouldn't be here now. The past has sometimes been very hard for us both. It would spoil the future entirely for me if I felt that I had been the means of betraying him to the police. If they'll only promise to leave us alone now, won't you let them go?—for my sake."
Lord Jura pulled at his under-lip in helpless indecision. He knew that he could not for long deny the girl anything she asked of him thus.
"You don't understand, Sallie," he said at length, very vexedly. "You'd better go off to your own room now,—and take Lady Jane—the duchess—with you. Leave me to deal with the Old Man and Slyne; it isn't only on my own account—"
"Will you set them on board the Olive Branch safe, if they promise to leave us alone now?" she urged, not to be denied in her purpose.
"But,—what are they to you?" he demanded. "Surely—it can't be—You don't—care for Jasper Slyne, do you, Sallie? I'll let him go, if you like—though he doesn't deserve it."
She shuddered. "If you hadn't come to-night," she told him tremulously, "you wouldn't have found me here—alive. I had made up my mind—" Her voice died away, but he understood.
"But I can't treat them as they would me," she reminded him, her anxious eyes holding his till he looked away, with an effort of will. "I could never be happy here, or anywhere else, if I left any of my old shipmates in the power of the law. Chance has brought us both here—and in time. Will you not wipe the past out of your mind entirely, as I have done, and—You won't refuse me the first favour I have asked of you, here in your home? And I won't ever forget how good you have always been to me."
He looked into her eyes again, and was lost. "Have it your own way, then," he said, as if with a grudge. "But—" His face fell. He looked furtively behind him. He had just remembered his pact with Farish M'Kissock. "You must get rid of them both at once, and very quietly," he whispered. "I won't answer for what may happen yet unless—"
Sallie did not even wait to thank him for his weak-willed complaisance. She crossed swiftly to the table where Jasper Slyne and Mr. Jobling were once more in low-voiced conclave with Captain Dove.
The three conspirators, sitting with heads together, in angry, undertoned argument, glanced up as she approached them. Their lowering faces lightened a little at sight of her, but fell again into black, rebellious masks while they listened sullenly to what she had to say. As she finished, Captain Dove brought a heavy fist down upon the table like a sledge-hammer, and, while the glasses still rang to its impact on the solid oak, "I'll be damned if I budge from here by one step," he cried at the top of his voice, and sprang from his chair, "till it suits me." He pulled his smoked glasses from off his nose, flung them on the floor, and trod viciously upon them as he advanced on Lord Jura again, ignoring all his companions' attempts to restrain him.
"Now, see here, my friend!" said he with another fierce imprecation, and thrust his face up close to the ex-engineer's while Carthew stepped hastily forward beside Lord Jura. "Now, see here, my friend! I've had about enough of you and your nonsense. Say whatever you've got to say to me now yourself and be done with it. Then I'll tell you what you're going to do—for me and my adopted daughter. There's no need for any more humming and hawing about it. Speak up!"
But his former slave did not shrink from before his withering glance. The banquet-hall of Loquhariot was not the bridge of the Olive Branch: and Lord Jura was even glad that his one-time tyrant did not seem disposed to avail himself of that last chance of escape at which Sallie had beguiled him into conniving.
"For my sister's sake," he said quietly, and not without dignity, "I was willing to—"
"You'll do whatever I tell you—for your own sake as well as your sister's," broke in Captain Dove, and looked him up and down with a virtuous frown. "Why, but for me, you'd have no sister!" He lowered his voice to a threatening whisper. "And you'd have hung long ago yourself, for the murder that you did here!" he hissed.
Lord Jura regarded him gravely for a moment or two, in silence; and then, turning toward the Pipers' Port, "Are you there, M'Kissock?" he called, in the tone of one entitled to prompt attention.