As she came, her mother turned
as though to leave Dyck Calhoun. She called to her to wait, and Mrs.
Llyn stood still, anxious. As Sheila came near she kept her eyes fixed
on Dyck. When she reached them, she held out the paper to him.
"It is wonderful," she said quietly, "that which you have written, but it
does not tell all; it does not say that you did not kill my father. You
are punished for the crime, and we must abide by it, even though you did
not kill Erris Boyne. It is the law that has done it, and we cannot
abash the law."
"We shall meet no more then!" said Dyck with decision.
Her lips tightened, her face paled. "There are some things one may not
do, and one of them is to be openly your friend--at present."
He put the letter carefully away in his pocket, his hand shaking, then
flicking an insect from the collar of his coat, he said gently, yet with
an air of warning: "I have been telling Mrs. Llyn about the Maroons up
there"--he pointed towards Trelawney--"and I have advised your going back
to Virginia. The Maroons may rise at any moment, and no care is being
taken by Lord Mallow to meet the danger.
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