“Keep your distance, sir,” the girl commanded, haughtily, “and we will talk. If you make a step nearer to me than you are now, I'll scream, and those men in the woods will hear me. And, if they hear me, and learn the trouble, it will go hard with you. Now, what do you want?”
Seguis had expected to find a fluttering, fearful youngling, somewhat impressed with his graces and courage. This businesslike disposal of his case caused his active mind to change its tack, as soon as it sensed the veer of the wind.
“I am here,” he said, “to present my compliments to you, along with those of a certain other man.”
“Whom do you mean?” Jean's voice was now a little tremulous, despite her discipline of it.
“Captain McTavish.”
“Oh!” she said, and she was silent for a moment, collecting herself. “But why do you, of all people, come with this message?” she added.
“No reason at all, except that I saved his life this morning, and thought you might want to learn the facts, and perhaps an inkling of his whereabouts.”
“Was that really your reason?” she asked, more kindly.
“It was one of them,” he answered, significantly.
It was now Jean's turn to look at her companion with some interest. He spoke with a certain dignity and reserve that she had never noticed in him before. His eyes were firm and steady when they met hers; his bearing was courteous. With a sort of horrible pleasure, she recognized that this was Donald's half-brother, and looked for a family resemblance. She found a very strong one, in the eyes and general stature. Mercifully for her feelings, the shape of the head was hidden in the swathed capote and fur cap. She wondered vaguely if he knew of the relationship.