most of them are well contented as
they are. But, if any one should be mad enough to attempt a dash for
freedom, four or five surveillants would be on him before he could count
twenty. They do not make themselves conspicuous here, that is all."

Sir Roger Broom looked across the eastern wall of the hospital garden,
over the green expanse of the great lagoon, and thought much; but he said
nothing. Quietly he prepared to take the suggested photograph, and the
hand that held the camera did not shake, though he could guess of what,
by this time, George Trent and Virginia were talking with the convict
under the palms.

When the Commandant had left them alone with him, Maxime Dalahaide
remained silent, Virginia's beauty filled him--not with happy worship of
its perfection, but rather with an overwhelming bitterness. He was a
Thing, of whom this exquisite, fresh young girl wished to ask a few
questions, so that she might go back to her world, thousands of miles
away, and say, "Only fancy, I talked to one of the convicts--an awful
creature. He had murdered a woman, but he was quite quiet, and, as my
brother was close beside me, I was not one bit afraid."

Just because he was a Thing, with no right to pride and self-respect, she
could ask what she pleased, and he would answer her; but she must begin,
not he.

She did begin, yet so differently from the cut-and-dried beginning which
he had scornfully expected, that a flash of vivid amazement swept the
hardness from the exile's face.

"Be very careful," she said rapidly in English. "Don't speak, don't show
anything you may feel. Perhaps we are watched. You are Maxime Dalahaide.
We haven't come here for curiosity, as you think, but to save you. We
have come thousands of miles for that."

"Why?" It was as if the question fell from his lips without volition. The
man did not believe his own ears. He thought that he must have been
seized with delirium.

"Because we believe in you and because we are friends of your sister's,"
Virginia answered. "A man you once knew is with us--Roger Broom. Do you
remember?"

"Roger Broom!" Maxime repeated dazedly. "It is like an echo from the
past. Yes--yes, I remember."

"It is through him that we have been able to reach you. He is close by,
but dared not let you see him, until you had been warned. Now, we must
arrange everything in a few minutes for your escape; the Commandant has
been kind, but he may not give us long together."

"I thin