“Do your worst!” she said hoarsely. “Brute and coward! Kill me, if you like, and hang for me! Do you think it’s any catch to live tied to a man like you? I wouldn’t say a word to save you from hell!” Strangely, her boldness sobered him, and he threw her head back on the pillow with a movement that was almost a blow, and walked over to the window. In less than a minute he turned and spoke from that position. “Is it me or yon rake-hell of a Jagger you’re after? Answer me that!” Scorn flashed from the dark eyes at the inquiry, but there was no other reply. “Will you give me your word not to leave the house again at night?” “I’m not your slave!” she answered. “You’ve called me devil and threatened to kill me—I’ll promise you nothing!” “Then you’re a prisoner in this room,” he said. “You can get up or not, just as you please, but here you’ll remain until I release you”; and with these words he left the room, locking the door behind him. Nancy made no attempt to rise, but leaned back on her pillows and considered the situation. She realised at once what must have happened; that in the interval between her reaching her room and the moment, nearly an hour later, when she remembered she had turned the lock in the outer door and omitted to drop the latch, her husband had returned and made his deductions. “He would see my footmarks, too, if he sought for them,” she reflected. “What a stupid mess I made of it!” Though he had treated her so roughly she was surprised to find herself thinking of her husband without resentment. A bracelet of red on her wrist showed with what merciless force he had gripped her, and her arm and shoulder ached as with the gnawing pain of a bared nerve; but to a woman of her hard race these things were trifles, and less than might have been expected from a man of Inman’s breed. She even excused him, realising the mortification he must feel at the suspicion that his own wife was plotting against him. It was a game they were playing, and she had made a wrong move—a pitiably careless move which well merited punishment; but he had nothing more than inference to go upon when he charged her with spying, and the game was not over. She rose and dressed, made the bed and tidied the room, and finally seated herself by the open window. The moors lay warm in the embrace of the sunshine and unseen birds were chirping their grace for the bounties of the moistened earth. Nancy wondered if she was to be left breakfastless, but she was not hungry enough to be concerned. “They say fasting sharpens the wits,” she reflected.