CHAPTER VIII
Koyala's Warning
For a moment no one spoke. Koyala, poised lightly on her feet, her slender, shapely young figure held rigidly and her chin uptilted, gazed steadily at Van Slyck. Her black eyes blazed a scornful defiance. Before her contempt even the proud Amsterdammer's arrogance succumbed. He reddened shamefacedly under his tan.
"I am here, Kapitein Van Slyck," Koyala repeated clearly. She stepped toward him and reached out a slender, shapely arm, bare to the shoulder. "Here is my arm, where are your manacles, kapitein?"
"Koyala!" Muller gasped huskily. His big body was trembling with such violence that the veranda shook.
"This is my affair, mynheer," Koyala declared coldly, without removing her eyes from Van Slyck. She placed herself directly in front of the captain and crossed her wrists.
"If you have no irons, use a cord, kapitein," she taunted. "But bind fast. The Argus Pheasant is not easily held captive."
Van Slyck thrust her roughly aside.
"Let's have done with this foolishness," he exclaimed bruskly.
"What folly, mynheer kapitein?" Koyala demanded frigidly.