"I loved her mother," he said softly. "I was the man whom her mother loved."
There was a silence between us then. We had no more to say. We were at that moment his bounden slaves. But by some evil chance, after a lengthened pause, he continued—
"I, alas, could do little for the child. Yet when I heard that harm was threatened to her through that scamp Delahaye, I crossed the ocean at an hour's notice. I saved her from him. He deserved his fate, but I am no murderer by profession, and the shock unnerved me for a time. Then——"
"Hush!" Mabane cried.
I sprang to the door. It had been thrust about a foot open. From outside came the sound of angry voices, followed by a moment's silence. Then a quick, shrill cry of triumph.
"Let me in. Oh, you shall not stop me now. I am going to see the man who boasts of being my husband's murderer!"
It was the voice of Lady Delahaye. She was already upon the threshold. I sprang to the table and saw her coming. Already she was behind the screen, stealing into the room, her head thrust forward, her lips parted, a peculiar glitter in her eyes. For a moment I stood rigid. The sight of her fascinated me—there was something so wholly animal-like in the stealthy triumph of her tiptoe approach. I recovered myself just in time. One more step, a turn of her head, and she would have seen Grooten. My finger pressed down the catch of the lamp, and a sudden darkness filled the room.
She stopped short. Her fierce little cry of anger told me exactly where she was. I stepped forward and caught her wrists firmly. Then I faced where I knew Grooten was still sitting. I could see the red end of his cigarette still in his mouth.
"Leave the room at once," I said. "You can push the screen on one side, and you are within a yard of the door then. Please do exactly as I say, and don't reply."
"Let go my hands, sir! Arnold, how dare you! Let me go, or I'll scream the place down. Mr. Mabane, you will not permit this?" she cried, in a fury.