“Mr. Bracknell, I am afraid, terribly afraid. Somehow I feel that your cousin is not dead. I feel that he will come back here, and that is why we are hurrying away tomorrow morning. The letter from Sir Joseph Rayner serves for an excuse. Do you understand?”
“I think I do,” answered the corporal sympathetically. “You are afraid that Dick, having found out where you are, will return to worry you?”
“You know him, I have told you how I was trapped into marrying him, do you think that he is the man to leave me in peace?”
“He is likely to consult only his own interests,” agreed her companion.
“But I shall be safe from him in England, if what you tell me is true. He dare not go there openly, and if he were to appear at all, I should be able to protect myself, by invoking the police.”
“The police would only be too happy to afford you protection here,” answered the corporal earnestly.
The girl looked at him with grateful eyes. “You mean yourself. Yes! I know, but there is another service that I want from you—”
“You have but to name it, Miss Gargrave,” he answered as she hesitated. “So far as duty allows, I am entirely at your service. Tell me what it is that I can do for you.”
“You can find out for me whether Dick Bracknell is alive or dead.”
The corporal had not anticipated the request, and he was a little startled by it. Instantly his mind reverted to the conversation he had had with Rayner. He recalled the hopes which the latter entertained, and wondered if this white-faced girl at his side was willing to help their realization. As that possibility flashed into his mind, he was conscious of a constriction about his heart. But he gave no sign.