“The case was hushed up; but in the adjustment Helga found out about Mr. Haynes’ part in her education. Now he is arranging for her musical education. He has no family, nor anyone dependent on him; all his interests in life are centred in her. And the best of it is that she is worthy of it.”
“It must be a great deal to such a man to inspire such absolute trust in a woman as he has in her,” said Colton after a pause. “‘I knew he would come after me,’ she said when I asked her how she dared take so desperate a chance.”
Miss Ravenden nodded at him appreciatively. “Yes; you see it too,” she said. “You did something worth while when you saved those two. But what about your Portuguese? Do you really think he had anything to do with killing that poor sailor? Helga told me about it. What an extraordinary case it is!”
“What puzzles Haynes with his trained mind is surely too much for me,” said Colton. “It seems that the man—great Heaven! What was that?” From the direction of the beach came a long-drawn, dreadful scream of agony, unhuman, yet with something of an appeal in it, too. The pair turned blanched faces toward each other.
“I must go over there at once,” said Colton. “Someone is in trouble. Miss Ravenden, can you make your way to the house alone?”
The girl’s small, rounded chin went up and outward. “I shall go with you,” she said.
“You must not. There’s no telling what may have happened. Please!”
With a swift, deft movement she parted the heavy handle of her net-stock, disclosing an ingeniously set revolver, which she pressed into his hand.
“I’m going with you,” she repeated, with the most alluring obstinacy.
“Come, then,” said Colton, and her pulses stirred to the tone. He caught her by the hand, and they ran, reaching the cliff-top breathless.