'What do you mean? Colin did not deceive me. That, at all events, is not one of his faults towards me.'
'Has he told you, then, why he keeps on his station that insolent woman and her yellow-haired blue-eyed boy?'
Bridget started visibly. He saw that his shaft had struck the mark. But she answered calmly:
'I don't know what you want to imply. I thought you knew that Mrs Hensor's husband was killed on one of Colin's expeditions, and that he looked after her and her boy on that account.'
'Oh, yes, I've heard that story. But it seemed common gossip at Tunumburra that there was another—less creditable—explanation.'
She turned fiercely upon him. 'You have no right to make such an abominable accusation.'
'I only mention what I heard. I went about a good deal there in bar saloons, and to men's gatherings. Naturally, I was interested in the district where, by the way, McKeith does not appear to be over popular. Of course, I attached no great importance to the gossip then. It only made me wonder. Oddly enough, to-day when I was out with the tailing mob, one of the men repeated it—I need not say that I stopped him. He said he'd had it as a fact from a man who was a long time in your husband's employ—a man called Steadbolt.'
Again the scene in front of Fig Tree Mount Hotel flashed before Lady Bridget, and Demon Doubt rose up clothed now in more material substance. Her voice shook as she answered, though she tried to be loyal:
'Steadbolt was discharged from my husband's employment. He is another of Mrs Hensor's rejected suitors. That speaks for itself.'
'Strange that Mrs Hensor should reject so many suitors without apparent reason,' said Maule.