Nor could
the Colonel find a word to say. He had been ready--knowing the native
character--to defend Mrs. Cary from the stroke of a revenging dagger.
His half-outstretched arm sank powerless before the stroke of these
few words, spoken with a calm which thinly covered a chaos of remorse
and broken-hearted grief.
"I have a question I should like to ask you, Mr. Travers."
There was a general uneasy start. Each shook off his brooding
considerations and turned with surprise to this unexpected speaker. It
was Beatrice, hitherto silent and apparently unmoved, who leaned
across to Travers. He himself felt the blood rise to his face. In his
absorbed state he had not noticed her presence, and now that he met
her cold eyes a curious discomfort crept over him--a discomfort that
was nearly fear.
"I will answer your question to the best of my ability," he said
quietly.
"The Rajah has spoken of you as his tool, and I think from your tone
that you think yourself aggrieved. In what way have you suffered? What
is your share of the losses?"
"I have lost all I have."
"All you have, no doubt. But your wife is very rich, and I believe has
grown richer within the last year. I am anxious to know if you intend
to follow the Rajah's generous example and meet your liabilities with
her fortune."
The Colonel, who had been staring vacantly at her, gave a start of
recollection.
"Yes!" he exclaimed energetically.
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