“But no such rule can apply to me.”
“Why not? You are a lady, of course, and far above the level of nine-tenths of the men here. But there is the remaining tenth to choose from. Of course, none of us are worthy of you, but—we will make good husbands.”
Dorothy tried to laugh the words away, but could not. She told herself that all this was some horrible dream from which she would presently awake, but all the while she knew it was terribly real. The toils were closing round her fast. Her thoughts flew to Howard. He, she felt, would save her, if man could; but he was one, and Forbes and his followers were many. If it came to a struggle the result would be inevitable. What could she do? What could she do?
Forbes was watching her keenly. “You realize the situation now?” he continued. “For our own welfare we cannot permit you to remain single. You could not get away, and we would not permit you to do so if you could. You must marry—in twenty-four hours. And since you must marry, let me advise you to choose one who can provide for you—and there is no one here who can do that so well as I. I won’t talk about love—that is for boys, and I am a man; but if you will marry me, you shall be queen here. Come! what do you say?”
Dorothy pushed back her chair and rose. “I say that this is utterly preposterous. I will not marry any one on compulsion. Certainly I will not marry you. I wish you good day, Captain Forbes.”
She turned toward the door, but Forbes stepped before her.
“One moment, Miss Fairfax,” he said. “I know how you feel, and I do not wish to turn you against me by undue persistency. If you want to go now, go! But think over what I have said. I believe that you will come to see that it is the best thing you can possibly do. Talk it over with your friends, I think they will advise you to consent. At all events, you have twenty-four hours—till four o’clock to-morrow, to get used to the idea. Take my advice and wait calmly till then.”
Dorothy bowed haughtily. “Very well,” she returned. “I will wait. Now, will you kindly summon my friends. I wish to return to my ship.”
Forbes’ lips curved in a cruel smile. “Your ship, Miss Fairfax,” he echoed. “You have no ship. You and your companions abandoned the Queen of your own accord, and by the law of the sea she and everything on her became the property of any one who salvaged her. My men have taken possession of everything, including your abandoned trunks—which are now mine. You have no place to lay your head, and nothing in the world except what you have on your person. However, I am not unkind. For twenty-four hours I will give you food and shelter. At the end of that time—well, we will see. Now you may go with Mother Joyce, who will care for you. And think over my proposition.”