er occupation and might almost have
forgotten the presence of the two men. She did not look at either of
them, but continued to rub and chafe her wrists softly.

Deede Dawson had forgotten for once to smile, his brow was slightly
wrinkled, his cold grey eyes intent and watchful, and Dunn felt very
sure that he was thinking out some plan or scheme.

The hope came to him that Deede Dawson was thinking he might prove of
use, and that was the thought which, above all others, he wished the
other to have. It was, indeed, that thought which all his recent actions
had been aimed to implant in Deede Dawson's mind till his dreadful
discovery in the attic had seemed to make at last direct action
possible. How, in his present plight that thought, if Deede Dawson
should come to entertain it, might yet prove his salvation. Now and
again Deede Dawson gave him quick, searching glances, but when at last
he spoke it was Ella he addressed.

"Wrists hurt you much?" he asked.

"Not so much now," she answered. "They were beginning to hurt a great
deal, though."

"Were they, though?" said Deede Dawson. "And to think you might have
been like that for hours if I hadn't chanced to come home. Too bad, what
a brute this fellow is."

"Men mostly are, I think," she observed indifferently.

"And women mostly like to get their own back again," he remarked with
a chuckle, and then turned sharply to Dunn. "Well, my man," he asked,
"what have you got to say for yourself?"

"Nothing," Dunn answered. "It was a fair cop."

"You've had a taste of penal servitude before, I suppose?" Deede Dawson
asked.

"Maybe," Dunn answered, as if not wishing to betray himself. "Maybe
not."

"Well, I think I remember you said something about not being long out
of Dartmoor," remarked Deede Dawson. "How do you relish the prospect of
going back there?"

"I wonder," interposed Ella thoughtfully. "I wonder what it is in you
that makes you so love to be cruel, father?"

"Eh what?" he exclaimed, quite surprised. "Who's being cruel?"

"You," she answered. "You enjoy keeping him wondering what you are going
to do with him, just as you enjoyed seeing me tied to that chair and
would have liked to leave me there."

"My dear Ella!" he protested. "My dear child!"

"Oh, I know," she said wearily. "Why don't you hand the man over to
the police if you're going to, or let him go at once if you mean to do
that?"

"Let him go, indeed!" exclaimed Deede Dawson. "What an id