"No, I will not," replied Brenda, firmly; "but I give you fair warning, Mr. van Zwieten, that if you do not leave this place immediately I shall at once inform the authorities about you. In luring me to Pretoria you made one mistake; you thought I should come unprepared. I did no such thing. I have ample evidence with me to prove that in London your occupation was that of a spy. Lady Jenny gave me the papers."
"I'm very much obliged to Lady Jenny, I'm sure," he said, with a bow. "At Pretoria--for Oom Paul--you could hardly have brought credentials calculated to speak more highly in my favor. He would be quick to appreciate my services."
"Why did you wish me to come to Pretoria? You know I am married."
"Yes, I know you are married; but marriage can be severed as all else is severed--by death," he said significantly. "If you had come to Pretoria--but there is no need to talk about that," he broke off impatiently. "I was duly informed that your husband was missing, but he escaped before I could reach the Tugela and myself take him to Pretoria, where he would have been completely in my power. I wrote the letter thinking you would really find him there. But he escaped and got your telegram--the one you sent to Wilfred Burton. I followed him down here, and learned how he intended to intercept the Kaiser Fritz. You see I am well informed, Mrs. Burton."
Brenda was astonished at the extent of the man's knowledge and the dogged fierceness with which he seemed to follow her and Harold. She wondered if it would not be wise to have so dangerous an enemy arrested at once. But the thought of Lady Jenny and the shame which it would bring upon her through the deeds of her late husband--which Van Zwieten would assuredly reveal in such a contingency--prevented her from deciding upon so severe a course. Later on she had reason bitterly to regret that she had not acted upon her first impulse. Had she done so it would have saved both her husband and herself endless trouble. Van Zwieten half guessed what was in her mind, but he made no move, and seemed quite content to abide by her decision. There was even a smile on his face as he looked at her. Villain as he was, his courage was undeniable. The pity was that such a virtue should not have been linked to others. But then that was the man all over. He was a belated Conrad the Corsair. "A man of one virtue and ten thousand crimes." Yet another virtue might be added. He loved Brenda, and he loved her honestly.
"I see you know your business as a spy, Mr. van Zwieten," she said coldly. "But all your work is thrown away. If you succeeded in killing my husband, as you seem anxious to do, I should kill myself!"
Van Zwieten turned a shade paler. For once he was moved out of his attitude of sneering insolence. "No, no," he said hoarsely, "do not think of such a thing! I won't harm your husband, on my honor----"
"Your honor! The honor of a spy?"
"The honor of a man who loves you!" he said with some dignity.
She shrugged her shoulders. She had not much belief in a love which was so selfish in its aims and so unscrupulous in the carrying out of them. But she would not argue further with him, she thought. The conversation was taking a turn of a personal character highly repugnant to her, and she moved away. "Well, Mr. van Zwieten, I have warned you! If you don't leave British territory I shall inform the authorities of your London career. Good-bye!"