"I also am an honorable man. I have kept your secret--up to the present----"
"My secret?" cried the other, contemptuously. "Oh! tell it to whom you please."
Van Zwieten bit his lip to prevent an exhibition of the surprise he felt at this unexpected defiance. "In that case I had better begin with Miss Sca--I beg your pardon--with Mrs. Burton. She would like to know----"
"She does know," interrupted Brenda, in her clear voice. "There is nothing left for you to tell, Meinherr van Zwieten!"
"Ach! You make me out to be Dutch, then! You are wrong--I am English."
"Quite so; until it suits you to become a Boer."
"We shall see. Oh, you will not have it all your own way in this war, you English. But enough of this," he went on imperiously. "You know, then, that your father and his twin brother killed Mr. Malet?"
"I know nothing of the sort," retorted Brenda, with spirit. "You had better take the case into court and prove your assertion."
"Think of the scandal!"
"I can face all that," cried Mr. Scarse, sharply. "If you think to blackmail me, Van Zwieten, you have come to the wrong person. So far as what I told you is concerned, you are harmless; you can do nothing."