Barbara stirred restlessly and Mrs. Malplaquet’s grip on her wrist tightened.
“Where are you taking me?” the girl said.
Mrs. Malplaquet spoke a single word.
“Bellward!” she said in a gentle voice; but it was a voice of command.
Bellward leaned forward.
“Look at me, Miss Mackwayte!” he said.
There was a curious insistence in his voice that made Barbara obey. She struggled for a moment against the impulse to do his bidding; for some agency within her told her to resist the summons. But an irresistible force seemed to draw her eyes to his. Bellward did not move. He simply leaned forward a little, his hands on his knees, and looked at her. Barbara could not see his eyes, for the light in the car was still dim, but inch by inch they captured hers.
She looked at the black outline of his head and instantly was conscious of a wave of magnetic power that transmitted itself from his will to hers. She would have cried out, have struggled, have sought to break away; but that invisible dance held her as in a vice. A little gasp broke from her lips; but that was all.
“So!” said Bellward with the little sigh of a man who has just accomplished some bodily effort, “so! you will keep quiet now and do as I tell you. You understand?”
No reply came from the girl. She had thrust her head forward and was gazing fixedly at the man. Bellward leaned towards the girl until his stubbly hair actually touched her soft brown curls. He was gazing intently at her eyes.