Melun turned round with a baleful light in his eyes.
“Now, my lady,” he said, “we can have this matter out.”
Kathleen's afflictions had only increased her old habit of command and her natural dignity. Though in reality she was the prisoner, she might have been the captor.
“Before you speak, Captain Melun,” she said, “I also have something to say. How long do you intend to keep me here? I ask this, not for my own sake, but for my father's.”
“That,” said Melun, with a malicious grin, “depends entirely on your father.”
“By this time, of course,” Kathleen continued, “a great hue-and-cry will have been raised after me in London. Do you intend to return there to-night? Again I ask this question for my father's sake. He should be informed of my whereabouts at once; for you must remember that he is an old man and will probably take this very much to heart.”
“He will not be informed of this to-night,” said Melun, shortly. “Because,” he continued, with a villainous leer, “I am only cruel to be kind. I want to have all the details of your ransom and our marriage settled as soon as possible. A night of waiting will soften your dear old father's heart, and he will probably listen to reason in the morning.”
Kathleen shuddered and drew a little further away from Melun. “You coward,” she said, and looked at him with infinite contempt.
Again a dangerous light leapt into Melun's eyes.