If only she had remained steadfast, and had refused to marry him! The thought of the child tormented her anew, the child who would never know a father's love. Fortunately the baby was so young that these matters could be kept from her knowledge until it seemed expedient to reveal them to her. Paul, however kind he might be, could never take a father's place. Instinctively she realised that, though he accepted the position, he resented it keenly. The knowledge that the child was Esme's and not his galled him sorely. But from the moment when he was resolved to have his wife at all costs Hallam had made up his mind that the child would form a part of the new life. Deep down in his soul he had a sort of perception that in this mental scourging lay his punishment and possibly his ultimate salvation. He would be good to the child for the sake of the woman he loved, and who loved them both. He drove with Bainbridge and Esme to the top of the hill, where he left them and walked the few yards to his hotel. The disturbance was over, and the rioters were in rapid retreat. They swarmed over the Donkin Reserve on their way to the locations. Many of them were injured, and, with the blood streaming from their wounds, presented a sufficiently unpleasant sight. The taxi turned into Havelock Street and stopped before the house, the door of which was opened promptly, and Rose, looking concerned and curious, came out upon the step. Her alarm increased when her eyes discovered Esme's dishevelled appearance. "Whatever's happened?" she asked, and put out a hand and caught her sister's arm. Bainbridge turned from paying the driver and followed them into the house. "Don't make a fuss," he said. "She's upset." There were tears in Esme's eyes; she looked white and altogether unstrung. "There's been an accident?" Rose said. "It came pretty near to being a fatal accident," Jim threw in helpfully. "One of those black devils got hold of her. If it hadn't been for Paul she'd be as dead as mutton by now." "_What_?" Rose ejaculated. "Paul's turned up," came the laconic information. "Turned up in the nick of time too. It seems he's been a prisoner of war. Don't say anything now. We are all feeling jumpy. He's coming over in the morning." Rose gasped in her astonishment. Her husband's jerked out sentences, his perturbed and bothered look, as much as her sister's evident agitation, kept her from putting the elucidatory questions which she longed to ask. She could scarcely believe this startling news, so abruptly given; it seemed to her incredible that Paul Hallam should be alive, and coming there. Gently she passed an arm about her sister's shoulders and spoke to her soothingly. "You poor dear!" was all she said. "You poor dear!"