As he looked at her, he had an overmastering
desire to make her his own--his wife. She was worth hundreds of
thousands of pounds; she had beauty, ability and authority. She was the
acme of charm and good bearing. With her he could climb high on the
ladder of life. He might be a really great figure in the British world-
if she gave her will to help him, to hold up his hands. It had never
occurred to him that Dyck Calhoun could be a rival, till he had heard of
Dyck's visit to Sheila and her mother, till he had heard Sheila praise
him at the first dinner he had given to the two ladies on Christmas Day.
On that day it was clear Sheila did not know who her father was; but
stranger things had happened than that she should take up with, and even
marry, a man imprisoned for killing another, even one who had been
condemned as a mutineer, and had won freedom by saving the king's navy.
But now that Sheila knew the truth there could be no danger! Dyck
Calhoun would be relegated to his proper place in the scheme of things.
Who was there to stand between him and his desire? What was there to
stay the great event? He himself was a peer and high-placed, for it
was a time when the West Indian Islands were a centre of the world's
fighting, where men like Rodney had made everlasting fame; where the
currents of world-controversy challenged, met and fought for control.
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