"Then there is something?"
Captain Burton cast a glance round the room and nodded. "I am not a coward," he groaned; "I hope I am not a coward, but there are some things which make the bravest man afraid. Van Zwieten is a devil!"
"Does he accuse you of the murder?"
"No, he doesn't go so far as that, and yet--Brenda," he cried, taking her hand and holding it so tightly that she could have screamed, "don't ask me any more; it is not my own secret."
"Has it anything to do with my father?"
"Partly; but you need not be anxious about that. He is in no danger. Leave me to fight it out with Van Zwieten. I shall get the better of him yet. No, no, Brenda, don't ask me any more questions; you cannot help me; I must go through with this matter alone. Trust me if you love me."
"I ask you to do that with me," said Brenda, sadly, "and you refuse."
"I don't refuse. I cannot tell you now; I will tell you when you are my wife. Listen! we must get married quietly."
"Why quietly?"
"Because I am afraid of Van Zwieten. Yes, you may well look astonished. I, who have never known fear before, fear him. He knows too much, and if he plots against me I cannot counterplot him--at all events for the present. We must marry!"