!" said Jack.

"I'm not laughing," she said. "I want you to tell me something. You know
Trevor. You knew him years before I did. Have you ever seen him--really
angry?"

"Great Jove! yes," said Jack.

"Many times?" There was a little quiver in her voice, but it did not
sound exactly agitated.

"No, not many times. He isn't the sort of fellow to let himself go, you
know," said Jack.

"No," she said. "But what is he like--when he is angry?"

Jack considered. "He's rather like a devil that's been packed in ice for
a very long time. He doesn't expand, he contracts. He emits a species of
condensed fury that has a disastrous effect upon the object thereof. He
is about the last man in the world that I should choose to quarrel with."

"But why?" she said. "Would you be afraid of him?"

Jack considered this point too quite gravely and impartially. "I really
don't know, Chris," he said at last. "I believe I should be."

"He can be terrible, then," she said, as if stating a conclusion rather
than asking a question.

"More or less," Jack admitted. "But he is never unreasonable. I have
never seen him angry without good cause."

"And then--I suppose he is merciless?"

"Quite," said Jack. "I saw him shoot a Kaffir once for knocking a wounded
man on the head. It was no more than the brute deserved. I was lying
wounded myself, and he took my revolver to do it with. But it was a nasty
jolt for the Kaffir. He knew exactly what was going to happen to him and
why, before it happened. Afterwards, when Trevor came back to me, he was
smiling, so I suppose it did him good. He's a very deliberate chap. Some
people call him cold-blooded. He never acts on impulse. And I've never
known him make a mistake."

"I see." Chris swallowed once or twice as if she felt an obstruction
in her throat. "I expect he would be like that with anyone," she said.
"I mean if he had reason to be angry with anyone, he wouldn't spare
them--whatever they were. I always felt he was like that."

"He's one of the best chaps in the world," said Jack warmly.

She assented, but not with the enthusiasm that had marked her earlier
eulogy. She seemed, in fact, to have become a little _distrait_, and
Jack, remarking the fact, suggested a canter.

They met several people whom they knew before they turned homewards, and
it was not until they were leaving the Park that any further conversation
was possible.

Then very suddenly Chris reined in and spoke. "Jack, befo