“I had not the slightest idea. I knew that Koona Dick was an Englishman—that was all. But when I read the note last night, and recalled your acknowledged acquaintance with Harrow Fell and Sir James, I suspected.”
“If you had known you would not have undertaken to follow him—to take him prisoner, I mean?”
“I could not very well have refused, without resigning from the force. Perhaps you know how the oath of allegiance runs?”
Joy shook her head, and he quoted—”And will well and truly obey and perform all lawful orders and instructions, which I shall receive as such, without fear, favour or affection of or towards any person. So help me, God!”
The girl shivered a little. “It is a hard service, yours,” she said. “And you would have arrested your cousin?”
“My cousin, or any other man—or woman. I have no choice in the matter. Duty, after all, is the greatest word in the language.”
Joy considered him thoughtfully. His lean face was stern, and there was a hard light in the unwavering grey eyes. It was clear to her that he meant just what he said, and that he would do whatever duty dictated without fear or favour.
“It is not every one who would agree with you,” she replied. “Your cousin, for instance, he—”
“Tell me,” he interrupted. “What was Dick Bracknell to you? This letter suggests an intimacy beyond that of mere acquaintance or friendship.”
“You are right,” the girl answered quickly. “He was my husband.”