“I don’t think Burke likes him,” Sylvia said almost involuntarily.

“Then, begging your pardon, you’re wrong,” said Kelly.  “Burke loves him like a brother.  I know that all right.  No, he’ll never say so.  He’s not the sort.  But it’s the truth, all the same.  He’s about the biggest disappointment in Burke’s life.  He’d never have left him to sink if he hadn’t been afraid the boy would shoot himself if he did anything else.”

“Ah!” Sylvia said again, with a sharp catch in her breath.  “That was what he was afraid of.”

“Sure, that was it,” said Kelly cheerfully.  “You’ll generally find that that good man of yours has a pretty decent reason for everything he does.  It isn’t often he loses his head—­or his temper.  He’s a fine chap to be friendly with, but a divil to cross.”

“Yes.  I’ve heard that before,” Sylvia said, with a valiant little smile.  “I should prefer to be friendly with him myself.”

“Ah, sure and you’re right,” said Kelly.  “But is it yourself that could be anything else?  Why, he worships the very ground under your feet.  I saw that clear as daylight that time at Brennerstadt.”

She felt her heart quicken a little.  “How—­clever of you!” she said.

He nodded with beaming appreciation of the compliment.  “You’ll find my conclusions are generally pretty near the mark,” he said.  “It isn’t difficult to know what’s in the minds of the people you’re fond of.  Now is it?”

She stifled a sigh.  “I don’t know.  I’m not very good at thought-reading myself.”

He chuckled like a merry child.  “Ah, then you come to me, Mrs. Ranger!” he said.  “I’ll be proud to help ye any time.”

“I expect you help most people,” she said.  “You are everybody’s friend.”

“I do my best,” said Donovan Kelly modestly.  “And, faith, a very pleasant occupation it is.”

CHAPTER VI

THE HERO

The wind went down somewhat at sunset and Sylvia realized with relief that the worst was over.  She sat listening for the return of Burke and Guy while her companion chatted cheerfully of a thousand things which might have interested her at any other time but to which now she gave but fitful attention.

He was in the midst of telling her about the draw for the great diamond at Brennerstadt and how the tickets had been reduced from monkeys to ponies because the monkeys were too shy, when there came the sound for which she waited—­a hand upon the window-catch and the swirl of sand blown in by the draught as it opened.

She was up in a moment, guarding the candle and looking out over it with eager, half-dazzled eyes.  For an instant her look met Burke’s as he stood in the aperture, then swiftly travelled to the man with him.  Guy, with a ghastly face that tried to smile, was hanging upon him for support.

Burke shut the window with decision and stood staring at Sylvia’s companion.