"I don't care two cents if you are innocent or guilty," said Darrel, coolly. "Starth was never a friend of mine, and objected to my marrying his sister. I've set my heart on making her my wife, because I love her with all my soul. She loves you."
"No, she doesn't!"
"She loves you," persisted Darrel. "Do you think I can't tell. I'm too deeply in love with her myself to make any mistake. I'm not going to have you queering my pitch. If you leave her alone and clear out, I'll hold my tongue."
"And if I don't?"
"I'll write to the London police. Inspector Herny will be glad to get you into his clutches. Now you know," and without further words Darrel turned on his heel and lumbered down the road like a heavy, clumsy steer.
For a few moments Frank stood alone in the shadow, feeling as though the brightness had died out of his life. He felt that he did not much care if he were arrested, so wearing was the _rôle_ he was playing, but the thought that Mildred would be told, that she would look upon him with loathing, made him shudder. He tried to stifle his thoughts, and hurried into the house to think what was best to be done. At that moment he sorely missed the wise head and staunch friendship of Jarman.
The door of the Shanty was wide open. Wondering at this, for Miss Cork was of that suspicious nature which always kept windows barred and doors closed, Frank stepped into the drawing-room. He glanced towards the mantelpiece where he had placed the photograph of Balkis. It was gone. A sudden suspicion seized him. He went to the kitchen. It was empty. Miss Cork had, vanished, and had taken the portrait with her!
[CHAPTER XIII]
A QUAKER LADY
Kingsbridge is the quaintest of towns, and was of great importance before the era of steam. Then fruit schooners ran as far as the Azores, and smuggling was a fine art; but now the glory and excitement has departed, and Kingsbridge is a quiet, clean, country town set in the heart of the Devonshire hills. At the top of the steep High Street dwelt Miss Dorothy Drake, and from her window she could behold the silver waters of the estuary and a panorama of undulating lands. The window was Miss Drake's favourite seat, and there she sat knitting for many a long hour, watching the landscape changing under the wonderful colours of the sky.