The storm of Linda's passion passed with the departure of the other woman. She was now terrified by what she had done. She allowed herself to be led away, weeping brokenly.
Sir Bryson turned to Jack. "As for you, you young blackguard," he said tremulously, "you needn't expect to profit by this. If she persists in her infatuation she is no daughter of mine. But I'll save her if I can."
Jack's chin stuck out. He said nothing.
Jean Paul had listened to all this, outwardly shocked, but with the hint of a smirk playing around the corners of his lips. Fate was unexpectedly playing into his hands! He now looked at Sir Bryson for orders, and Sir Bryson, as if in answer, rose and said:
"Jean Paul, I order you to arrest this man. Secure him, and keep him under guard until we can reach the nearest police post. Mr. Vassall and Mr. Ferrie will assist you."
The other two men who, up to the moment of Linda's avowal, had been well enough disposed toward Jack, now turned hard and inimical faces against him, and hastened to lend Jean Paul their aid. All this while Garrod sat in his chair staring dully before him.
Jack's hands clenched, and his eyes shot out cold sparks. "Keep your hands off me," he said. "All of you!"
Jean Paul with an air of bravado motioned Vassall and Ferrie back. To outward appearances he was fully Jack's match. Lacking an inch or two of his height, he more than made it up in breadth of trunk, and length of arm. He slowly approached the white man, alert and smiling evilly. For a moment they measured each other warily, Jean Paul crouching, Jack upright. Then the half-breed sprang forward. Jack drew off, and his fist shot out. There was the crack of bone on bone, and Jean Paul measured his length on the grass. He twisted a few times, and lay still.
"Good God!" cried Vassall and Ferrie, falling back. They were not muscular men.
"He's not dead," said Jack off-hand. "A bucket of water will bring him to."