She leaned against the Doctor's great shoulder, sighing:
"Thank you! ... I'm all right now! Not going to cry any more.... But Bawne! If we wait long enough there will be news of him? We—shall get him back?"
She felt Saxham's iron muscles jerk, and his ribs heave as though the trident had found a home between them. Perhaps he could not find his voice, for it was the Chief who said:
"We are doing everything possible. Mr. Sherbrand is helping. He has been good enough to place the telegraph installation at our disposal and the Wireless also. A call, Burgin?"
The undersized clerk had waved a hand from the threshold of the cabin. The Chief vanished. Patrine sighed:
"Oh, if there should be news!"
"You are too sensible to be bowled over if there happens to be no news," said the Doctor's voice. But his arm was tense about her waist and she felt the beating of his heart.
"Uncle Owen!"
Sherbrand had withdrawn out of earshot. She squeezed the kind responsive hand, turned her mouth towards the Doctor's ear, and whispered tremulously:
"Uncle Owen! You don't know him as I do. That's why I am so—horribly afraid for Bawne! He would be cruel to anyone you liked, if he hated you. And he is furious with me! I have thwarted him in—something he wishes! He is bad!—dangerous!—do you understand?"