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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Well, Tommy," he said, "isn't it time to turn in?" Tommy sat up. "Oh, I suppose so. Infernally hot, isn't it? I've been reading Stella's letter." Monck lodged his shoulder against the window-frame. "I hope she is all right," he said formally. His voice sounded pre-occupied. It did not convey to Tommy the idea that he was greatly interested in his reply. He answered with something of an effort.
It was nearly an hour later that Everard Monck and his brother left the mess together and walked back through the dripping darkness to the bungalow on the hill overlooking the river. The rush of the swollen stream became audible as they drew near. The sound of it was inexpressibly wild and desolate. "It's an interesting country," remarked Bernard, breaking a silence.
"Your ideas of honour having altered somewhat," observed Monck, with bitter cynicism. Dacre winced a little. "I don't profess to be anything extraordinary," he said. "But I maintain that marriage gives no woman the right to wreck a man's life. She has no more claim upon me now than the man in the moon. If she tries to assert it, she will soon find her mistake."
Dacre glared at him, but his glare was that of the hunted animal trapped and helpless. He was conquered, and he knew it. Calmly Monck continued. "There is not much doubt that she holds proof of the marriage, and she will probably try to establish it as soon as she is free." "She will never get anything more out of me," said Dacre. His voice was low and sullen.
Her lips quivered again piteously. "I am not brave at all," she said. "I left all my courage all my faith in the mountains one terrible morning when God cursed me for marrying a man I did not love and took the man away." "My darling!" Monck said. He drew her to him again, holding her passionately close, kissing the trembling lips till they clung to his in answer.
"You haven't told me anything about your brother," she said, as they sat together on a grey boulder and basked in the sunshine. "Haven't I?" Monck spoke meditatively. "I've got a photograph of him somewhere. You must see it. You'll like my brother," he added, with a smile. "He isn't a bit like me." She laughed. "That's a recommendation certainly. But tell me what he is like! I want to know."
Dacre was looking him full in the eyes with more of curiosity than apprehension. "And as you have foreseen I shall not refuse under those circumstances. It would have saved time if you had put it in that light before." "It would. But I hoped you might have the decency to act without persuasion." Monck was speaking between his teeth, but the revolver was concealed again in the folds of his garment.
He could hear Monck's footsteps coming through the gate of the compound, but he was not paying any attention to Monck for once. His troubled mind scarcely even registered the coming of his friend. Only when the latter mounted the steps on to the verandah and began to move along it, did he turn his head and realize his presence. Monck came to a stand beside him.
"It's all right," Sir Reginald said, and in his voice was steady reassurance. "You're with friends. Get a hold on yourself! Don't say any more!" "Ah!" Monck drew a deep breath and seemed to come to himself. He lifted a face of appalling whiteness and looked at Sir Reginald. "You're very good, sir," he said. "I was knocked out for the moment. I'm all right now."
When he turned round to her, she saw that he was smiling, a fierce, triumphant smile. He threw down the revolver, and as he did so, she found her voice. "Captain Monck, what does that man want? What what is he doing?" He stood looking at her with that dreadful smile about his lips and the red fire leaping, leaping in his eyes. "Can't you guess what he wants?" he said. "He wants you." "Me?"
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