"Chut! You can befool Markes, Perona. You have for years been doing it." "This meddling fellow, he has met Jetta!" "I do not believe it." There was a sudden grimness to Spawn's tone at the thought. "I do not believe it. Jetta would not dare." "You should have seen him flush when Markes mentioned at the conference this morning that I am to marry Jetta. No one could miss it. He has met her--I tell it to you--and it must have been last night." "So, you say?" Jetta could see her father's face, white with suppressed rage. "You think that? And it is that this Grant might be your rival, that worries you? Not our plans for to-night, which have real importance--but worrying over a girl." "She would not talk to me. She would not come out. He has no doubt put wild ideas into her head. Spawn, you listen to me. I have always been more clever than you at scheming. Is it not so? You have always said it. I have a plan now, it fits our arrangements with De Boer, but it will rid us of this Americano. When all is done and I have married Jetta--" * * * * * Spawn interrupted impatiently. "You will marry Jetta, never fear. I have promised her to you." And because, as Jetta well knew, Perona had made it part of his bargaining in financing Spawn. But this they did not now mention. "To get rid of this Grant--well, that sounds meritorious. He is dangerous around here. To that I agree." "And with Jetta--" "Have done, Perona!" With sudden decision Spawn leaped to his feet. "I do not believe she would have dared talk to Grant. We'll have her out and ask her. If she has, by the gods--" It fell upon Jetta before she had time to gather her wits. Spawn strode to her door, and found it fastened on the inside. "Jetta, open at once!" He thumped with his heavy fists. Confused and trembling she unsealed it, and he dragged her out into the sunlight of the garden. "Now then, Jetta, you have heard some of what we have been saying, perhaps?" "Father--" "About this young American? This Grant?" She stood cringing in his grasp. Spawn had never used physical violence with Jetta. But he was white with fury now. "Father, you--you are hurting me." Perona interposed. "Wait Spawn! Not so rough! Let me talk to her. Jetta, _chica mia_, your Greko is worried--" "To the hell with that!" Spawn shouted. But he released the girl and she sank trembling to the little seat by the pergola. Spawn stood over her. "Jetta, look at me! Did you meet--did you talk to Grant last night?" She wanted to deny it. She clung to his angry gaze. But the habit of all her life of truthfulness with him prevailed. "Y-yes," she admitted. CHAPTER IX _Trapped_ "Spawn! Hold!" There was an instant when it seemed that Spawn would strike the girl. The blood drained from his face, leaving his dark eyes blazing like torches. His hamlike fist went back, but Perona sprang for him and clutched him. "Hold, Spawn: I will talk to her. Jetta, so you did--"