Llyn roused herself to say: "No, no, Mr. Calhoun, you must not say
that of him. His place may be in danger, but not his ladies. He has no
promise of that. . . . And see, Mr. Calhoun, I want to say that, in
any case, you have paid your debt, if you owe one to us. For a life
taken you have given two lives--to me and my girl. I speak as one who
has a right to say it! Erris Boyne was naught to me at all, but he was
my daughter's father, and that made everything difficult. I could make
him cease to be my husband, and I did; but I could not make him cease to
be her father."
"I had no love for Erris Boyne," said Sheila. Misery was heavy on her.
"None at all, but he was my father."
"See, all's well still at Salem," said Dyck waving a hand as though to
change the talk. "All's as we left it."
There in the near distance lay Salem, serene. All tropical life about
seemed throbbing with life and soaking with leisure.
"We were in time," he added. "The Maroons are still in ambush. The sun
is beginning to set though, and the trouble may begin. We shall get
there about sundown--safe, thank God!"
"Safe, thank God--and you," said Sheila's mother.
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