“Guy!” said Sylvia quickly.

“Yes.  He worked like a nigger—­better.  He’s been among hot ashes and that infernal sand for hours.  I couldn’t get him out.  He did the impossible.”  A curious tremor sounded in Burke’s voice—­“The impossible!” he said again.

“Sure, I always said there was grit in the boy,” said Kelly.  “You’ll be making a man of him yet, Burke.  You’ll have to have a good try after this.”

Burke was silent.  His eyes, bloodshot but keen, were upon Sylvia’s face.

It was some moments before with an effort she lifted her own to meet them.  “So Guy is a hero!” she said, with a faint uncertain smile.  “I’m glad of that.”

“Let’s drink to him,” said Kelly, “now he isn’t here to see!  Burke, fill up!  Mrs. Ranger!”

“No—­no!” Sylvia said.  “I am going to get the tea.”

Yet she paused beside Burke, as if compelled.  “What else did he do?” she said.  “You haven’t told us all.”

“Not quite all,” said Burke, and still his eyes searched hers with a probing intentness.

“Don’t you want to tell me?” she said.

“Yes, I will tell you,” he answered, “if you especially want to hear.  He saved my life.”

“Hooray!” yelled Kelly, in the voice of one holloaing to hounds.

Sylvia said nothing for a moment.  She had turned very pale.  When she spoke it was with an effort.  “How?”

He answered as if speaking to her alone.  “One of Vreiboom’s tumble-down old sheds fired while we were trying to clear it.  The place collapsed and I got pinned inside.  Piet Vreiboom didn’t trouble himself, or Kieff, either.  He wouldn’t—­naturally.  Guy got me out.”

“Ah!” she said.  It was scarcely more than an intake of the breath.  She could not utter another word, for that imprisoned thing within her seemed to be clawing at her heart, choking her.  If Burke had died—­if Burke had died!  She turned herself quickly from the searching of his eyes, lest he should see—­and understand.  She could not—­dared not—­show him her soul just then.  The memory of his kiss—­that single, fiery kiss that had opened her own eyes—­held her back.  She went from him in silence.  If Burke had died!

CHAPTER VII

THE NET

It was not often that Sylvia lay awake, but that night her brain was in a turmoil, and for long she courted sleep in vain.  For some time after she retired, the murmur of Burke’s and Kelly’s voices in the adjoining room kept her on the alert, but it was mainly the thoughts that crowded in upon her that would not let her rest.  The thought of Guy troubled her most, this and the knowledge that Kieff was in the neighbourhood.  She had an almost uncanny dread of this man.  He seemed to stand in the path as a menace, an evil influence that she could neither avert nor withstand.  Burke had barely mentioned him, yet his words had expressed the thought that had sprung instantly to her mind.  He was an enemy to them all, most of all to Guy, and she feared him.  She had a feeling that she would sooner or later have to fight him for Guy’s soul, and she was sick with apprehension.  For the only weapon at her disposal was that weapon she dare not wield.