. Everything was plain
now, and for a few moments she felt overwhelmed. Her face blanched, but
her eyes were hard and very bright.

Kenwardine left her, feeling that Brandon would have cause to regret his
rashness if he ever attempted to renew her acquaintance, and Clare sat
down and tried to conquer her anger. This was difficult, because she had
received an intolerable insult. Brandon thought her a thief! It was plain
that he did so, because the change in his manner bore out all her father
had said, and there was no other explanation. Then she blushed with shame
as she realized that from his point of view her unconventional behavior
warranted his suspicions. She had asked him to come into the garden and
had written him a note! This was horribly foolish and she must pay for
it, but she had been mistaken about his character.

She had, as a rule, avoided the men she met at her father's house and had
shrunk with frank repugnance from one or two, but Brandon had seemed
different. Then he had watched for her when he was ill and she had seen
his heavy eyes get brighter when she came into the room. Now, however,
she understood him better. She had some beauty and he had been satisfied
with her physical attractiveness, although he thought her a thief. This
was worse than the coarse admiration of the men she had feared. It was
unthinkably humiliating, but her anger helped her to bear the blow. After
all, she was fortunate in finding out what Brandon was, since it might
have been worse had the knowledge come later. There was a sting in this
that rankled, but she could banish him from her thoughts now.

CHAPTER XII

DICK KEEPS HIS PROMISE

Twinkling points of light that pierced the darkness lower down the hill
marked the colored laborers' camp, and voices came up faintly through the
still air. The range cut off the land breeze, though now and then a
wandering draught flickered down the hollow spanned by the dam, and a
smell of hot earth and damp jungle hung about the veranda of Dick's iron
shack. He sat near a lamp, with a drawing-board on his knee, while Jake
lounged in a canvas chair, smoking and occasionally glancing at the sheet
of figures in his hand. His expression was gloomily resigned.

"I suppose you'll have things ready for us in the morning," Dick said
presently.

"Francois' accounts are checked and I'm surprised to find them right,
but I imagine the other calculations will not be finished. Anyhow, it
won