“I will not!” she said, and with the words she stood up to her full, slim height, thwarting him, making her last stand.

His expression changed as he realized her defiance.  She was panting still, but there was no sign of yielding in her attitude.  She was girt for resistance to the utmost.

There fell an awful pause—­a silence which only her rapid breathing disturbed.  Her eyes were fixed on his.  She must have seen the change, but she dared it unflinching.  There was no turning back for her now.

The man spoke at last, and his voice was absolutely quiet, dead level.  “You had better let me go,” he said.

She made a sharp movement, for there was that in the steel-cold voice that sent terror to her heart.  Was this Burke—­the man upon whose goodness she had leaned ever since she had come to this land of strangers?  Surely she had never met him before that moment!

“Open that door!” he said.

A great tremor went through her.  She turned, the instinct to obey urging her.  But in the same instant the thought of Guy—­Guy in mortal danger—­flashed across her.  She paused for a second, making a supreme effort, while every impulse fought in mad tumult within her, crying to her to yield.  Then, with a lightning twist of the hand she turned the key and pulled it from the lock.  For an instant she held it in her hand, then with a half-strangled sound she thrust it deep into her bosom.

Her eyes shone like flames in her white face as she turned back to him.  “Perhaps you will believe me—­now!” she said.

He took a single step forward and caught, her by the wrists.  “Woman!” he said.  “Do you know what you are doing?”

The passion that blazed in his look appalled her.  Yet some strange force within her awoke as it were in answer to her need.  She flung fear aside.  She had done the only thing possible, and she would not look back.

“You must believe me—­now!” she panted.  “You do believe me!”

His hold became a grip, merciless, fierce, tightening upon her like a dosing trap.  “Why should I believe you?” he said, and there was that in his voice that was harder to bear than his look.  “Have I any special reason for believing you?  Have you ever given me one?”

“You know me,” she said, with a sinking heart.

He uttered a scoffing sound too bitter to be called a laugh.  “Do I know you?  Have I ever been as near to you as this devil who has made himself notorious with Kaffir women for as long as he has been out here?”

She flinched momentarily from the stark cruelty of his words.  But she faced him still, faced him though every instinct of her womanhood shrank with a dread unspeakable.

“You know me,” she said again.  “You may not know me very well, but you know me well enough for that.”

It was bravely spoken, but as she ceased to speak she felt her strength begin to fail her.  Her throat worked spasmodically, convulsively, and a terrible tremor went through her.  She saw him as through a haze that blotted out all beside.