And if it did not occur to her to question either his power or his perfect right to dispose of her future also as he might see fit, had not all her experience gone to prove that might is right everywhere, that law and justice are merely additional pretexts devised by the strong for oppressing the weak? She had had to choose between remaining on board the Olive Branch, or paying Jasper Slyne his price for the chance of escape he had offered her in pursuance of his own aims.
She disliked and distrusted Slyne scarcely less than before. But she did not see how she could have chosen otherwise. And, in any case,—it was too late now to revoke the promise she had made him.
She was still afraid to place any faith in the promises he had made her. She had no idea how he had come at his alleged discovery of her real identity. But Mr. Jobling's obvious belief in that recurred to her mind, and she fell to wondering timidly what life would be like as Lady Josceline Justice.
Her impressions on that point were very hazy, however, and she had still to puzzle out the problem added by Justin Carthew. But she finally gave up the attempt to solve that at the moment, contenting herself with the tremulous hope that she might soon be on her way toward that dear, unknown, dream-home for which her hungry heart had so often ached.
Of the exorbitant price so soon to be paid for the brief glimpse of happiness Slyne had agreed to allow her, she took no further thought at all. She had already made up her mind to meet that without complaint.
An hour or more later, when Slyne looked in to tell her that it was time to start, she was still seated at the window, gazing out over the steel-grey sea with wistful, far-away eyes.
At his instigation she veiled herself very closely. And he had brought with him a hooded cloak for Ambrizette. No one took any particular notice of the inconspicuous party which presently left the Hôtel de Paris in a hired car, as if for an excursion along the coast.
At a station fifty miles away they left the car and caught the night-mail for Paris. Slyne's baggage was on board it, in the care of a sullen chauffeur, and there were also berths reserved for them all.
"Did you see any more of Dubois?" Sallie heard Slyne ask the man, who shook his head indifferently in reply.
The long night-journey passed without other incident than a dispute between Captain Dove and the sleeping-car attendant, which raged until Slyne threatened to have the train stopped at the next station and send for the police. And the sun was shining brightly when they reached Paris.