He had suffered sorely, both body and mind, since he and his party had been betrayed into El Farish's hands by an Arab guide. And now—
He was a penniless peer of the United Kingdom, with every prospect of being unable to maintain those rights which he knew were his, an impecunious citizen of the United States, with a foreclosure threatening him there. The result of all his own efforts so far was failure.
And yet, he felt that he ought to be thankful that he had come through alive. "A living dog is better than a dead lion," he told himself. "And—I owe that girl my life. But for her, I'd be—" He shrugged his shoulders. It was not pleasant, there in the dark, to recall that hole in the sand on the African coast which he had only escaped by a hairbreadth, thanks to her.
"I wouldn't be here at all," he reflected. "And that fat lawyer of hers would see her settled into my place without any fuss. He said, in fact, that the Chancery Court had practically admitted her claim to it already.
"And now—how am I to get up and swear she's a fraud! How am I to repay all I owe her—by fighting her for another man's leavings!"
He halted, to fill his pipe, and found it full. He lighted it, and turned back toward the inn. It had just recurred to him that, even if he were disposed to fight her for his inheritance, there were very strong financial reasons as well as merely sentimental ones against that course. He was already in Bolder & Bolder's debt. He had had to apply to them by wire for his fare to London from Genoa. They had further defrayed the Court costs of that order of access to the archives of Loquhariot which Mr. Justice Gaunt had recently made in his favour, and had furnished him with a few pounds for subsequent expenses.
But they had taken the opportunity to mention, always politely, that they could go no farther than that beyond the terms of their original bargain: and that the next advance of cash must come from him to them.
In a word, he could not afford to fight either her or anyone else just then. And he had a very strong impression that the fat lawyer who had interposed between him and the girl would put up a protracted, expensive battle on her behalf.
"But some day I'll have a couple of rounds with him," Carthew promised himself. "Just at the moment—my hands are tied. And, what's more, the Courts are closed."
He sighed.