Then, without word or warning of any
sort, with a single spring inexpressibly bestial, he leapt at
Rivington's throat.
But Rivington was ready for him. With incredible swiftness he stooped
and caught his assailant as he sprang. There followed a brief and
furious struggle, and then the Indian found himself slowly but
irresistibly forced backwards across the Englishman's knee. He had a
vision of pale blue eyes that were too grimly ironical to be angry, and
the next moment he was sitting on the floor, two muscular hands holding
him down.
"Not to-night," said the leisurely voice above him. "To-morrow, if you
like, we will begin the cure. Go home now and think it over."
And with that he was free. But he sat for a second too infuriated to
speak or move. Then, like lightning, he was on his feet.
They stood face to face for an interval that was too pregnant with
fierce mental strife to be timed by seconds. Then, with clenched hands,
in utter silence, Dinghra turned away. He went softly, with a gliding,
beast-like motion to the door, paused an instant, looked back with the
gleaming eyes of a devil--and was gone.
The Poor Relation threw himself into a chair and laughed very softly,
his lower lip gripped fast between his teeth.
VI
THE KNIGHT ERRANT'S STRATEGY
It was summer in Weatherbroom--the glareless, perfect summer of the
country, of trees in their first verdure, of seas of bracken all in
freshest green, of shining golden gorse, of babbling, clear brown
streams, of birds that sang and chattered all day long.
Pages:
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289