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"Where do you want me to t-take you?" demanded Peter.
"Ah! That is of so little importance! To Nara--Nagoya--to Australia--America."
She shrugged, as if to say, "and little I care."
"Now I am offering you only two rewards for that sacrifice--your safety against _them_--and money. You can name your price. I feel that you will come to love me; but that can come, if it cares, any time. When you want me--I will be waiting. I want you to consider this now. Now!
Will you? Tell me that you will!"
"I--I don't know what to say!" stammered Peter in a husky voice.
"Are--you are not joking, are you, Miss Borria? You can't be! But this is so serious! Shocking! Why, you never saw me before! Why should you pick me for such a thing when you never saw me? You don't know me. You don't know what a brute I might be. Why, I might be married for all you know----"
"I am reasonably sure," said the girl with some of her former serenity.
"But this--this is unbelievable!" cried Peter. "You never saw me before to-day. Why, you're a nice girl. You're not the kind of girl who runs away with a man at first sight. You're not in love with me at all. Not at all. Miss Borria----"
A flame of hot suspicion shot athwart Peter's mind. He seized her hands, glared into her eyes, dragged her to her feet.
"See here!" he clamored. "Tell me what you really want. What's your game, eh? You're a wise little bird, you are. I may look stupid, I may not see all the way through this talk you've been giving me.
You're holding back. What is it? Come on! Out with it!"
She was not disturbed in the least at his harshness, nor did she seemingly disapprove of the rough way he handled her.
"I am married," she said simply.
CHAPTER IV
To Peter this revelation was like the addition of a single grain to a bucket br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sand.
"Well, what of it?" he barked.
"To a man who is fat and untidy, a man old enough to be my father, who treats me as if I were a thief, or a dog. I loathe him. And he detests me. You see"--she smiled ironically--"we are not very happy.
I ran away from him a month ago, from Hong Kong. I ran as far as Singaraja, and now I have to go back because I have not the courage to stay away. A stronger will would make me give him up. Would make me go away, and stay. And I grabbed at you."
"As a drowning man would grab at a straw."
"Not at all! Perhaps, let us say, I had pictured such a man as you.
And then you came. He will beat me when I return."
"No!"
"Yes!" She pressed down the gauzy stuff which came up almost to her throat in the form of a high "V." And across the rounded white curve of her chest were four angry red stripes, the marks of a whip.
He shuddered. "This is terrible."
"Will you help me--now?"
"What can I do? What can I do?" He was striving to adjust himself to this exceedingly difficult situation. "But I don't understand how you can place all this confidence in me."
"Because when I saw you I knew you were a man who stopped at nothing."
"But why--why does he beat you? It--it's incomprehensible!"
He stared at the beautiful face, the long, white appealing face, and the deep, dark eyes with their fringe of long lashes. If ever a girl was meant to be loved and protected it was this one.
"I know I am asking a great deal, far more than I have any right, and not taking you into consideration at all. But you will help me. You must. Have I talked to you in vain? Do--do you think I would make you unhappy?"
"That's not the question, not the question at all. But you don't know me. We are perfect strangers!"
That is what Peter had been trying to get out of his system all of this time. Had he been thinking connectedly at this trying moment, not for the life of him would he have uttered those words. He had convinced himself that he was above and beyond all shallow conventions. And in an unguarded moment this thought, which had been in and out of his mind, popped out like a ghost from a closet. We are perfect strangers!
"So is every man a stranger to his wife. What difference does time make? Very little, I think. A day--a week--a month--a year--twenty!--you and I would still be strangers, for that matter.
Who can see into any man's heart?"
She stopped talking, and kneaded her hands as if in anguish.
"And think! Do think of me!"
"I am thinking of you," said Peter constrainedly.
"We can go to Nara, if you like, to the little inn near the deer-park, and be so happy--you and I. Think of Nara--in cherry-blossom time!"
"I can't see the picture at all," said Peter dryly. "But since you've elected me to be your--your Sir Galahad, I'll tell you what I will do."
Nervously the girl was fumbling at her throat, where, suspended by a fine gold chain, hung a cameo, a delicately carved rose, as red as her lips, and as life-like. She nodded, quite as though her life hung by that gold thread and depended at the high end upon his decision.
"Your husband's nationality?" he asked abruptly.
"He is a Portuguese gentleman, my father's cousin."
"It would be possible for me, perhaps, to aid a lady in distress by punishing the cause of it."
"You mean----"
"I will gladly undertake to thrash the gentleman, if it would do any good."
"No, no! That would not do."
"Then there's no choice for me. Either I must accept or decline your invitation."
"I pray you will! I have told you frankly and quickly, because time is valuable. We have none to lose. A steamer leaves for Formosa and Moji the morning after we arrive--at daybreak. We would scarcely have time to complete our plans, and embark."
Peter raised his eyebrows. "Complete our plans?" he intoned.
"Yes. We must raise money. You see, there is money, thousands of dollars, always in that house. It would be necessary to--to take whatever of it we needed. That is why I will need you, too."
"I think," declared Peter with decision, "that we had better call this a misdeal, and play another game for a while. In the first place, I will not run away with you, because it is against my principles to run away with a strange young woman. In the second place, stealing for pleasure is one of the seven deadly sins that I conscientiously avoid.