His mouth closed upon the words like the snap of a strong spring.  Knight waited for more, but none came.  Whatever the thought behind the warning that he had just uttered it was evident that Rufus had no intention of giving it expression.  He had uttered the girl’s name with no more emotion than that of his father, but it seemed to Knight that by that very fact he had managed to convey a warning more potent than any that had followed.  Otherwise he would scarcely have taken the trouble to mention her.  The possibility of subtlety in this great, slow-speaking giant piqued him to a keener interest.  He resolved to probe a little deeper.

“Miss Columbine is a very reliable guide,” he remarked.  “If you and Adam have been her instructors in shore-craft, she does you credit.”

His remark went into utter silence.  Rufus, with huge hands loosely clasped between his knees, appeared to be engrossed in watching the progress of the boat as she drifted gently on the rising tide.  His face was utterly blank of expression, unless a certain grim fixity could be described as such.

Knight became slightly exasperated.  Was the fellow no more than the fool Columbine believed him to be after all?  He determined to settle this question once and for all at a single stroke.

“I suppose she has all you fellows at Spear Point at her feet?” he said, with an easy smile.  “But I hope you are all too large-minded to grudge a poor artist the biggest find that has ever come his way.”

There was a pause, but the burning blue eyes were no longer fixed upon the sparkling ripples through which they had travelled.  They were turned upon Knight’s face, searching, piercing, intent.  Before he spoke again, Knight’s doubt as to the existence of a brain behind the massive brow was fully set at rest.

“There is another thing I have to say,” said Rufus.

Knight’s smile broadened encouragingly.  “By all means let us hear it!” he said.

Rufus proceeded.  “You speak of Columbine as if she were just a bit of amber or such-like as you’d found on the shore and picked up and put in your pocket.  You speak as if she’s your property to do what you like with.  That’s just what she is not.  You’re making love to her.  I know it.  I seen it.  And it’s got to stop.”

He spoke with blunt force; his hands were suddenly locked upon each other in a hard grip.

Knight lifted his shoulders; his smile had become whimsical.  He had drawn the fellow at last.  “I thought you’d seen something,” he remarked, “by your way.  But who could help making love to a girl with a face like that?  It would take a heart of stone to resist it.  Why, even you”—­and his look challenged Rufus with careless derision—­“even you have fallen to that temptation before now, or I’m much mistaken.  But I gather that your attentions did not meet with a very favourable response.”

He was baiting the animal now, taunting him, with the semi-humorous malice of the mischievous schoolboy.  He had no particular grudge against Rufus, but he had a lively desire to see him squirm.