, vibrating voice.

She faltered:

"It--it is Dr. Saxham."

"And what the devil does Dr. Saxham want?" was written in Beauvayse's
angry face. But he called out as he lowered his revolver-hand:

"You've had rather an escape of getting shot, Saxham, do you know? You
might have been a Boer or a buffalo. Better be more careful next time, if
you're anxious to avert accidents."

Saxham was a little like the buffalo as he lowered his head and surveyed
the alert, virile young figure and the insolent, high-bred face from under
ominously scowling brows. He made no answer; only laid one finger upon the
butt of his own revolver, and the slight action fanned Beauvayse's
annoyance and resentment to a white-heat, as perhaps Saxham had intended.
He sprang upon another boulder that was in the mid-swirl of the current,
and spoke again.

"Miss Mildare, I was walking on one of the native paths that have been
made in the bush there"--he indicated the bank behind him--"when I heard
you cry out. I am here, at your service, to offer you any help or
protection that is in my power to give."

Lynette looked at him vaguely. Beauvayse, crimson to the crisp waves upon
his forehead and the white collar-line above the edge of his jacket,
answered for her.

"Miss Mildare does not require any help or protection other than what I am
privileged to place at her disposal. You had better go on with your walk,
Doctor. You know the old adage about two being company?"

He laughed, but his voice had quivered with fury, and the hand that held
the revolver shook too. And his eyes seemed colourless as water against
the furious crimson of his face. Still ignoring him, Saxham said, his own
square, pale face turned full upon Lynette, and his vivid blue eyes
constraining her:

"Miss Mildare, I am at your commands. Tell me to cross the river and take
you back to the ladies of the Convent, or order me to continue my walk. In
which case I shall understand that the familiarities of Lord Beauvayse are
not unwelcome to you."

"By God ...! You----"

Beauvayse choked, then suddenly remembered where and how to strike. But he
waited, and Saxham waited, and still she did not speak.

"Am I to go or stay? Kindly answer, Miss Mildare!"

Beauvayse's eyes were on her. He said to her below his breath:

"Tell him to go!"

She stammered:

"Th--thank you. But--I--I--had rather you went on."

Beauvayse saw his opportunity, and added, with an intolerable smile:

"My