"I accept," said Beatrice faintly. "There is nothing else for me to do, Major Ruck."
"Really, I don't think there is," said the Major pleasantly. "Well, then, I'll expect you in the counting-house, where that old scoundrel was murdered, within two days--in the evening. If you play me false, I'll send a letter to the police, and Mr. Paslow will find himself in the dock instead of at the altar. And now, Miss Hall, permit me to escort you to the four-wheeler, which will be waiting."
He held out his long white hand with a polite smile; but Beatrice, ignoring the courtesy, walked alone towards the door. Ruck frowned and winced, and followed with a shrug. All the same, scoundrel as the man was, he did not like the implied slight. As the two emerged into the corridor there came a ring at the door. With a stifled exclamation of anger the Major opened it, and there on the threshold stood Durban, looking green with rage. The half-caste entered hurriedly and closed the door.
"Waterloo told me that missy was here," he said in an imperious tone, "and I have come to take her away."
"Oh, Durban, Durban!" cried the girl, and seized his arm.
"It's all right, missy." He patted her hand. "You are safe with me."
"She is safe in any case," said Ruck contemptuously. "She has accepted my terms, and she has my leave to go. As to Waterloo, I will punish him for telling you what he had no right to tell you."
"He has told many other things he has no right to tell," said Durban significantly, "and to the police."
"What?" The Major's face became ghastly, and he reeled against the wall with an oath.
"The game is up, Major," said Durban, holding the hand of Beatrice still tighter. "All I want to do is to get Miss Hall away before the police come to arrest the lot of you."