She was hesitating whether to descend or to climb on up, when Winthrope’s peevish whine was cut short by a loud and angry retort from Blake. Every word came to the girl’s ears with the force of a blow.
“You do, do you? Well, I’d like to know where in hell you come in. She’s not your sister, nor your mother, nor your aunt, and if she’s your sweetheart, you’ve both been damned close-mouthed over it.”
There was an irritable, rasping murmur from Winthrope, and again came Blake’s loud retort.
“Look here, young man, don’t you forget you called me a cad once before. I can stand a good deal from a sick man; but I’ll give it to you straight, you’d better cut that out. Call me a brute or a savage, if that’ll let off your steam; but, understand, I’m none of your English kinds.”
Again Winthrope spoke, this time in a fretful whine.
Blake replied with less anger: “That’s so; and I’m going to show you that I’m the real thing when it comes to being a sport. Give you my word, I’ll make no move till you’re through the fever and on your legs again. What I’ll do then depends on my own sweet will, and don’t you forget it. I’m not after her fortune. It’s the lady herself that takes my fancy. Remember what I said to you when you called me a cad the other time. You had your turn aboard ship. Now I can do as I please; and that’s what I’m going to do, if I have to kick you over the cliff end first, to shut off your pesky interference.”
The girl crouched back into the withered foliage, dazed with terror. Again she heard Blake speak. He had dropped into a bitter sneer.
“No chance? It’s no nerve, you mean. You could brain me, easy enough, any night–just walk up with a club when I’m asleep. Trouble is, you’re like most other under dogs–’fraid that if you licked your boss, there’d be no soup bones. So I guess I’m slated to stay boss of this colony–grand Poo Bah and Mikado, all in one. Understand? You mind your own business, and don’t go to interfering with me any more! . . . . Now, if you’ve stared enough at the lady’s skirt–”
The threat of discovery stung the girl to instant action. With almost frantic haste, she scrambled down to the lower branches, and sprang to the ground. She had never ventured such a leap even in childhood. She struck lightly but without proper balance, and pitched over sideways. Her hands chanced to alight upon the remnants of leopard skin. Great as was her fear, she stopped to gather all together in the edge of her skirt before darting up the cleft.
At the baobab she turned and gazed back along the cliff edge. Before she had time to draw a second breath, she caught a glimpse of Blake’s palm-leaf hat, near the crown of the ladder tree.