I looked him in the bright and honest eyes that had made me trust him in the beginning. And I did not utterly distrust him yet. Rather was the guile on my side as I drew back and watched Rattray lift the young girl tenderly, and slowly carry her to the door by which she had entered and left the hall just twenty-four hours before. I could not take my eyes off them till they were gone. And when I looked for my revolver, it also had disappeared.
Jose had not got it - he lay insensible. Santos was
I murmured; “it had something to do with him, in a sense; but don’t ask me any more.” And I leaned my forehead on the high oak mantel-piece, and groaned again.
His hand was upon my shoulder.
“Do tell me,” he urged. I was silent. He pressed me further. In my fancy, both hand and voice shook with his sympathy.