Trask glanced up at the windows of a two-storeyed
house on the left, scarcely a stone's throw away, a respectable mansion
with a verandah and neat gateway of wrought iron. "But at the end of
this what becomes of her?"

The Collector shrugged his shoulders. "I have thought of _that_, at all
events. My coach will be here to take her home. It lies on my road.
As for me, I shall have to mount at once and ride through the night--a
second test for the back-bone."

"Ride and be hanged to you!" broke out Mr. Trask with a snarl of scorn.
"But for the rest, if your foppery leave you any room to consider the
girl, you couldn't put a worse finish on your injury. Drive her off in
your coach indeed!--and what then becomes of her reputation?"

"--Of what you have left to her, you mean? Damn it--_you_ to talk like
this!"

"Do not be profane, Captain Vyell. . . . We see things differently, and
this punishment was meted to her--if cruelly, as you would say--still in
honest concern for her soul's good. But if you, a loose-living man--"
Mr. Trask paused.

"Go on."

"I thank you. For the moment I forgot that you are not at liberty.
But I used not that plainness of speech to insult you; rather because it
is part of the argument. If you, then, drive away with this child in
public, through this town, you do her an injury for which mere
carelessness is your best excuse; and the world will assign it a worse."

"The world!"

"I mean the world this young woman will have to live in. But we talk at
cross-purposes. When I asked, 'What becomes of her at the end of this?'
I was thinking of the harm you have already done. As a fact, I have
ordered my cart to be ready to take her home."

Captain Vyell considered for a few seconds. "Sir," he said, "since
plain speech is allowed between us, I consider you a narrow bigot; but,
I hasten to add, you are the best man I have met in Port Nassau. By the
way--that house on our left--does it by chance belong to Mr. Wapshott?"

"It does."

"I thought so. For a couple of hours past, in the intervals of my
reading, I have discovered a family of tall young women peeking at us
from behind the windows and a barrier of furniture; and once, it seemed
to me, I detected the wattles of your worthy fellow-magistrate.
He ought not to strain that neck; you should warn him of the danger."

"It should have warned you, sir, of what mischief you are doing."

"I seem to remember," the Collector mused, "