"Your reason, sir?"
"I—I am not in a killing humour."
Captain Protheroe's lips twitched, but he answered gravely:
"Then may I beg you, sir, to overcome your humour without delay."
The prisoner breathed quickly and was silent.
Then Captain Protheroe laughed quietly. "Ah, well! from time immemorial women have loved to delay their coup-de-grâce. You but carry out the traditions of your sex, madame."
The prisoner turned to the captain a pair of wide blue eyes filled with horrified amazement.
"Ah! I thought I could not be mistaken, Mistress Barbara," continued the captain, smiling. "Pray be seated, you must be worn out with fatigue."
Barbara sank unresisting into the chair he pushed forward, and drooped her head in silence.
"May I ask, madame, to what cause I owe the honour of this visit?" queried the captain politely.