The old Frenchman laid a kindly hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“No, no. Monsieur is a man of honor. And honor comes before love—always.”
“If you love her,” insisted Tia Teresa, “you will save yourself tonight. We will look after her. You need not worry on her account.”
Dick for the moment was silenced, but unconvinced.
“Well, at all events we’ll wait a bit. I don’t leave this spot till I’m sure that Ben Thurston himself has cleared.”
“All right,” assented Pierre. “Stay where you are, Tia Teresa. You must not be seen. Zey may be searching in ze gardens.”
Even as he spoke there was the flash of a lantern among the rose bushes.
In tense silence they waited and watched. The leaden-winged minutes stole on. For a time lights flitted about, then vanished. At last came the “honk-honk” of the automobile, and a minute later the great machine with its flaring headlights swept down the roadway. They could just see that it was crowded with men. Then in a few seconds it had disappeared around the bend.
“Now we go,” said Pierre.
“Just a minute longer, please,” replied Dick in a firm tone. “Tia Teresa, you slip back to the house. I will stay here till you bring me word from Merle that she is safe and that all is well.”