I do not know that I need relate what Phroso did when I gave her back her island. These southern races have picturesque but extravagant ways. I did not know where to look while she was thanking me, and it was as much as I could do not to call out, ‘Do stop!’ However presently she did stop, but not because I asked her. She was stayed by a sudden thought which had been in my mind all the while, but now flashed suddenly into hers.
‘But Constantine?’ she said. ‘You know his—his secrets. Won’t he still try to kill you?’
Of course he would if he valued his own neck. For I had sworn to see him hanged for one murder, and I knew that he meditated another.
‘Oh, don’t you bother about that!’ said I. ‘I expect I can manage Constantine.’
‘Do you think I’m going to desert you?’ she asked in superb indignation.
‘No, no; of course not,’ I protested, rather in a fright. ‘I shouldn’t think of accusing you of such a thing.’
‘You know that’s what you meant,’ said Phroso, a world of reproach in her voice.
‘My dear lady,’ said I, ‘getting you into trouble won’t get me out of it, and getting you out may get me out. Take that paper in your hand, and go back to your people. Say nothing about Constantine just now; play with him. You know what I’ve told you, and you won’t be deluded by him. Don’t let him see that you know anything of the woman at the cottage. It won’t help you, it may hurt me, and it will certainly bring her into greater danger; for, if nothing has happened to her already, yet something may if his suspicions are aroused.’
‘I am to do all this. And what will you do, my lord?’
‘I say, don’t call me “my lord”; we say “Lord Wheatley.” What am I going to do? I’m going to make a run for it.’