"Did you hear? Isabel and Rolleston: she's struggling with him. . . ."

"Miss Bakefield will hold out. The sentence of death has not been
issued," said Antonio.

One of the men keeping watch at the entrance to the gangway now came
along on his rounds, walking slowly and listening. Antonio recognized
him:

"He's one of the original accomplices. Rolleston had all his Hastings
stalwarts with him."

The man shook his head:

"Rolleston is wrong. A leader doesn't concern himself like that with
trifles."

"He's in love with the girl."

"A funny way of being in love! . . . He has been persecuting her now
for four days."

"Why does she refuse him? To begin with she's his wife. She said yes
just now."

"She said yes because, ever since this morning, some one has been
squeezing dear papa's throat."

"Well, she'll say yes presently so that it shan't be squeezed a little
tighter."

The man bent down:

"How's the old chap doing?"

"Impossible to say!" growled the woman, who held the cord. "He told
his daughter not to give in, said that he'd rather die. Since then,
you'd think he's sleeping. It's two days since he had anything to
eat."

"All this sort of thing," retorted the sentry, moving off, "isn't
business. Rolleston ought to be on deck. Suppose something happened,
suppose we were to be attacked, suppose the enclosure was invaded!"

"In that case, I've got orders to finish the old man off."

"That wouldn't make us come out on top."

A short time elapsed. The two women talked in very low tones. At
moments Simon seemed to hear raised voices from the cabin:

"Listen," he said. "That's Rolleston, isn't it?"

"Yes," said the Indian.

"We must do something, we must do something," said Simon.

The door of the cabin was flung open violently. Rolleston appeared. He
shouted angrily to the women:

"Are you ready? Count three minutes. In three minutes strangle him,"
and, turning round, "You understand, Isabel? Three minutes. Make up
your mind, my girl."

He slammed the door behind him.

Quick as thought, Simon had seized Antonio's rifle, but, hampered by
the bars, he was unable to take aim before the villain had closed the
door.

"You will spoil everything!" said Antonio, crawling from under the
tarpaulin and wresting the rifle from him.

Simon, in turn, stood up, with distorted features:

"Three minutes! Oh, poor girl, poor girl!"

Antonio tried to restrain him:

"Let's think of something. There m