I was both perplexed and excited as the result of that short conversation. It was possible to read so much both in her words and in her manner; and I was puzzling over her real meaning when Sampayo re-entered the room, glanced round hurriedly, and then came straight across to me. By the heavy frown in which his brows were drawn together, his air of decision, and the expression of his eyes when he saw me, I guessed that he had at last succeeded in remembering me and had decided to lose no time in finding out what I knew about him. I had been watching him without looking up, and when I did so, his look changed and he forced a smile: a very poor effort to appear at ease. “You know I was puzzling where we could have met, Mr. Donnington. I have settled it at last. It was in South Africa, and I wish to have a word or two with you.” CHAPTER VII SAMPAYO IS UNEASY Although Sampayo had obviously made up his mind to ascertain at once whether I knew anything about those black doings of his in South Africa, I had not the slightest intention of satisfying him. There were many things I had to clear up before I dealt with him; and, as matters stood, it suited me much better that Miralda should be betrothed to him than to any one else. Sampayo was a big brute, much bigger than I, and had once possessed great strength; but during his years of comfort and wealth, fat had taken the place of a good deal of his muscle. He had, however, retained the air of bullying masterfulness and he now tried to bully me. “You have not been frank with me, Mr. Donnington,” he said as he sat down. “I don’t suppose you wished purposely to mislead me, but you did so in fact. You said that after the relief of Mafeking you did not see any more of the war.” “No, no, pardon me. I said I was sent down country.” “Well, that’s much the same thing, sir; whereas, from what you have told Mademoiselle Dominguez it is clear that you went up country again and were there at the end of things. You meant me to infer the opposite, and I must ask you for your reasons.” At his hectoring tone I turned and looked him full in the eyes, and then turned away again with a shrug of the shoulders, giving him no other reply. “You heard me, Mr. Donnington.” I took out my watch, glanced at the time, and replaced it in my pocket very deliberately, and yawned. “I have asked you a question, sir, and I mean to have an answer.” I paused and looked at him again more deliberately than before. “Is it possible that you are addressing me?” “Certainly I am addressing you,” he said with an angry twist of the head. “Then be good enough to drop that barrack-yard tone, or say at once that you wish to force a quarrel upon me.” I knew he was an arrant coward; and this was not at all to his liking. After a slight pause he said in a very different manner: “I may have spoken abruptly, but I think I am entitled to an explanation.” “Of what?” I rapped out very sharply.