There was no escape that way. There was no help either from the nurses who were not nurses at all, nor from the maudlin little doctor, nor from the pretty girl who came sometimes and looked down on her with undisguised contempt--or was it pity? Then one night she woke in a fright. Two people were talking. She half turned her head and saw that Pinto was in the room, and his face was a flaming fury. She had seen that look before, but now his rage was directed at somebody else, and with a start she recognised the pretty girl that the nurses called Lollie. "You're not in this, Lollie," said the man, and she laughed. "That's just where you're wrong, Silva," she replied. "I'm very much in it. What happens to this girl when she leaves here heaven only knows--I guess it's up to the colonel. But while she's here I'm looking after her." "You are, are you?" he said between his teeth. "Well, now you can go and take a walk." "I can also take a seat too," she said. He walked over to her and glowered down at the girl, and she puffed a cloud of cigarette smoke in his face. "I'm a crook because it pays me to be a crook," said the girl calmly. "If it's jollying along one of the colonel's blue-eyed innocents, or keeping a watchful eye upon Mr. King, or acting trustful maiden to some poor fool from the country--why, I'm ready and willing, because that's my job. But this is a different matter altogether. If the colonel says she's got to go abroad, why, I suppose she's got to go. But she's not going to be on my conscience, that's all," said Lollie. They passed through the door into a smaller room where the night watchers sat. She made as though to sit at the table when he gripped her arm and swung her round. She put up her hands to defend herself, but was thrown against the wall, and his grip was on her throat. "Do you know what I'll do for you?" he hissed. "I don't care what you do," she said. She was on the verge of tears. "You're not going into that room--you're _not_ going!" She sprang at him, but with a snarl like a wild beast, he turned and struck her, and she fell against the wall. "Now get out"--he pointed to the door--"get out and don't show your face here again. And if you've got any information, you can report it to the colonel and see what he's got to say to you!" She slunk from the room. Pinto went back to the room where the girl lay. "Cover your head with a blanket, my pretty?" he said. "Pinto must not see that pretty face, eh?" He laid hold of the blanket's edge and pulled it gently down. But the blanket would not come away. It was being clutched tightly. With a jerk he wrenched it down, then stumbled backwards to the floor, a grotesque and ludicrous figure, for the white silk mask of Jack o' Judgment confronted him and the hateful voice of his enemy shrilled: "I'm Death! Jack o' Judgment! Poor old Jack! Jack, the hangman! You'll meet him one day, Pinto--meet him now!" Pinto collapsed--he had fainted. CHAPTER XXII