Page:Randall Parrish--My Lady of the South.djvu/371

THE DISCOVERY OF DANIELS died, and in the silence, my mind insensibly began to review those swiftly recurring events of the past few days. It seemed to me I had lived years since first coming to this house—years full of violence, death, danger, and excitement. And how greatly was I indebted to Donald, and to Jean! He had gone to her—eager to be with her even for a moment. I wondered if she would confess to him now the story of our relationship. If she did, if she told him all, how would he greet me upon his return? It must have cost her much to make that open avowal before Dunn and his men: she was driven to it by hope of saving my life. But it would be harder yet to confess the truth to Donald.

I had gone no further in my thought, when he came in, crossing the room, and lifting the shades before speaking. There was nothing in his face to give me uneasiness, and he looked me in the eyes smilingly, sitting down with his back to the window.

"I am picking up the ends of a rather tangled skein, King," he said easily, "but little by little it is straightening out. After I talk with Dunn I hope to know what to do. The fellow ought to be here by this time."

We waited for, perhaps, five minutes in silence, Donald seemingly buried in thought, and I afraid to ask those questions which agitated my brain. He was not a man to exhibit emotion, and I could judge nothing as to how he felt or thought from his words or outward actions. What did he know, suspect, plan? How would the knowledge of my midnight marriage to Jean affect him? What did this coming interview with Dunn [ 351 ]