Jake stood upright with a jerk. She met the extraordinary brightness of his eyes with an odd mixture of boldness and reluctance.
"My girl," he said, in his queer, anomalous drawl, "there ain't a man anywhere in God's universe who knows what he wants better than I do. If I didn't want this thing I shouldn't ask for it. See?" He came to her with the words, and laid one finger on her arm. "Don't you know it's your friendship I'm after?" he said, with a touch of aggressiveness. "Why, I've been after it ever since that night I found you down in the dark alone on the edge of the parade. You were up against it that night, weren't you? And didn't like me over much for butting in. Do you know what you made me think of? A forlorn princess of the Middle Ages. There's a mediæval flavour about you. I don't know where you keep it. But it makes me feel mediæval too."
She drew back a little, stiffened ever so slightly. Something in her resented the freedom of his speech. Something rose in swift revolt and clamoured to be gone.
He must have seen her gesture, her quick, protesting blush; for he turned almost instantly and jerked the whip-lash through his fingers, testing it.
A fitful gleam of sunshine suddenly pierced the clouds behind him and shone on his bent head. His hair gleamed like burnished copper. The tawny glint of it made her think of an animal-a beast of prey, alert, merciless, primeval.
She put on her hat. "I must be getting back to Bunny," she said.
"I am coming with you," said Jake.
She looked at him sharply. "You will walk?"
"Yes, I shall walk."
She pointed with nervous abruptness to the whip he held. "Then you won't want that."
Jake smiled, and tested the whip again without speaking.
Maud waited a moment; then steadily she spoke. "You realized of course, that when I told you about Mr. Sheppard's behaviour of last night, it was in strict confidence?"
Jake squared his broad shoulders. "All right, my girl. It's safe with me," he said. "There shan't be any scandal."
Maud was very white, but quite resolute. "Jake," she said, "you are not to do it."
He raised his brows.
"You are not to do it!" she said again, with vehemence. "I mean it! I mean it! The quarrel is not yours. You are not to make it so." She paused, and suddenly caught her breath. "Oh, don't look at me like that! You make me-afraid!"
Jake turned and tossed the whip down on the window-seat. "You've nothing to be afraid of," he said rather curtly. "You're making your own bugbear. P'raps it's natural," he added, with abrupt gentleness. "You've had a lot to bear lately. There! I've done what you asked. We had better get back while it's fine."
He unlocked and opened the door, standing back for her to pass.
He kept his eyes downcast as she went through, and she knew that it was in response to her appeal that he did so. She tingled with a burning embarrassment, which vanished all in a moment as he said: "Say, now, do you mind if I light my pipe before I follow you? Don't wait! I'll catch you up."
And she made her way out into the fleeting sunlight and racing wind with a strong sense of relief. The pipe was not a particularly aristocratic feature of Jake's existence, but it was an extremely characteristic one, and it placed matters on a normal footing at once. Jake was never disconcerting or formidable when he was smoking a pipe. She consented to it gladly.
And Jake turned back into the room with a grim smile on his lips, picked up a letter from the table, and thrust it deep into the fire.
After that he lighted his pipe with the charred remnants thereof, and followed Maud into the open.
CHAPTER XIV
THE WAY OF ESCAPE
The sun shone out again as they went down the hill, and the sea gleamed below them like a sheet of silver.
"You like this place?" asked Jake.
"I could like it," she made answer.
He smiled. "Then I reckon you shall. Say, does Bunny know about your coming up here to me?"
She coloured deeply. "He knew I came, yes. He did not know why."
Jake was still smiling. "Guess he'll be pleased," he said. He added, between puffs at his pipe: "We'll make him happy between us. We'll give him the time of his life."
She drew a deep breath. Surely no sacrifice was too great for that!
They passed the church on the hill, and descended the steep road to the town.
"There are some rooms I know of along this road," said Jake. "Kept by the wife of one of our stable-men. Shall we go in and have a look at 'em?"
She hesitated. "Bunny will wonder where I am."
He glanced at her. "Well, look here! You leave me to see to it. I'll fix up something, and then I'll come on after you and we'll get the boy away."
She met his look somewhat doubtfully.
"Why not?" said Jake.
She answered him with an effort. "You do understand, don't you, that I couldn't-I can't-accept help from you before-before-our marriage?"
"Why not?" he said again. "Reckon you mean to stick to your bargain?"
"Oh, it isn't that," she said painfully. "Of course-of course-I shall keep my word with you. But I have a little pride left-just a little-and-"
"And I'm to humour it, eh?" said Jake. "Well, you shall have it your own way. But let me do the fixing for you! I know just what you want. It's only for a few days either."
He smiled at her, and she yielded.
But when they separated at length she paused uneasily. "Jake!"
"Your servant!" said Jake promptly.
She stretched a nervous hand towards him. "Jake, if you meet-my step-father, you will not-not-"
"Most unfortunately I can't," said Jake. He held her hand for a moment, and let it go. "There! Good-bye! I won't do anything indiscreet, I promise you. There is too much at stake. Now you get back to Bunny as quick as you can! I shan't be long after you."
And Maud went with a feeling at the heart of relief and dread oddly mingled. She knew that Jake would keep his word. There was a rocklike strength about him that nothing could ever shake. For good or ill, he would stick to a bargain, be the price what it might. But she saw him overriding every obstacle to attain his purpose. He would never flinch from possible consequences; of that she was certain. What he had said he would do, that he would do, and no power on earth would divert him therefrom.
She shivered suddenly and violently as she walked. The relentless force of the man had in it an element that was terrible. What had she done? What had she done?
She encountered her mother as she mounted the hotel stairs.
"Oh, my dear, here you are at last!" was her greeting. "I have been so worried about you. Come into my room!"
But Maud resisted her. "I must go to Bunny. He has been alone for so long."
"No, dear, no! Bunny's all right for the present. I've been to see. He doesn't want anything. He told me so. Come into my room-just for a moment, dear child! We can't talk in the passage."
As Mrs. Sheppard was plainly bent upon talking, Maud concluded she had something to say; and followed her.
"Shut the door, my darling! That's right. How white you look this morning! Dearie, I am more sorry than I can say for what happened last night. Giles told me about it. But he says he is quite willing now to let bygones be bygones. So you won't bear malice, darling; will you? Of course I know he ought not to have done it," with a slightly uneasy glance at her daughter's rigid face. "I told him so. But he assured me he only did it for your good, dear. And he seems to think that you were rather rude to him earlier in the day. He is old-fashioned, you know. He thinks a whipping clears the air, so to speak. It's better anyhow than saving up grievance after grievance,