“But do you mean,” Da Souza spluttered, “that we are to go like this—to be turned out—the laughing-stock of your servants, after we have come back too, all the way?—oh, it is nonsense! It's not to be endured!”
“You can go to the devil!” Trent answered coolly. “There is not one of you whom I care a fig to see again. You thought that I was ruined, and you scudded like rats from a sinking ship. Well, I found you out, and a jolly good thing too. All I have to say is now, be off, and the quicker the better!”
Then Da Souza cringed no longer, and there shot from his black eyes the venomous twinkle of the serpent whose fangs are out. He leaned over the table, and dropped his voice.
“I speak,” he said, “for my wife, my daughter, and myself, and I assure you that we decline to go!”
CHAPTER XII
Trent rose up with flashing eyes. Da Souza shrank back from his outstretched hands. The two men stood facing one another. Da Souza was afraid, but the ugly look of determination remained upon his white face. Trent felt dimly that there was something which must be explained between them. There had been hints of this sort before from Da Souza. It was time the whole thing was cleared up. The lion was ready to throw aside the jackal.
“I give you thirty seconds,” he said, “to clear out. If you haven't come to your senses then, you'll be sorry for it.”
“Thirty seconds is not long enough,” Da Souza answered, “for me to tell you why I decline to go. Better listen to me quietly, my friend. It will be best for you. Afterwards you will admit it.”
“Go ahead,” Trent said, “I'm anxious to hear what you've got to say. Only look here! I'm a bit short-tempered this morning, and I shouldn't advise you to play with your words!”