Mrs. Clover dodged through the door and, running down the pair of steps
from the kitchen stoop to the ground, vanished behind the house.

"Enjoying your breakfast, I trust?"

Eleanor pushed back her chair and rose. She feared him, feared him as
she might have feared any loathly, venomous thing; but she was not in
the least spiritually afraid of him. Contempt and disgust only
emphasised the quality of her courage. She confronted him without a
tremor.

"Will you take me with you when you leave this island tonight?" she
demanded.

He shook his head with his derisive smile. She had discounted that
answer.

"How long do you mean to keep me here?"

"That depends on how agreeable you make yourself," he said obscurely.

"What do you mean?"

"Merely that ... well, it's a pleasant, salubrious spot, Wreck Island.
You'll find it uncommonly healthful and enjoyable, too, as soon as you
get over the loneliness. Not that you'll be so terribly lonely; I shall
be here more or less, off and on, much of the time for the next few
weeks. I don't mind telling you, in strict confidence, as between father
and child, that I'm planning to pull off something pretty big before
long; of course it will need a bit of arranging in advance to make
everything run smoothly, and this is ideal for a man of my retiring
disposition, not overfond of the espionage of his fellow-men. So, if
you're docile and affectionate, we may see a great deal of one another
for some weeks--as I said."

"And if not--?"

"Well"--he waved his hands expressively--"of course, if you incline to
be forward and disobedient, then I shall be obliged to deny you the
light of my countenance, by way of punishment."

She shook her head impatiently. "I want to know when you will let me
go," she insisted, struggling against the oppression of her sense of
helplessness.

"I really can't say." He pretended politely to suppress a yawn,
indicating that the subject bored him inordinately. "If I could trust
you--"

"Can you expect that, after the way you treated me last night--this
morning?"

"Ah, well!" he said, claw-like fingers stroking his lips to conceal his
smile of mockery.

"You lied to me, drugged me, robbed me of the necklace, brought me
here...."

"Guilty," he said, yawning openly.

"Why? You could have taken the necklace from me at the hotel. Why must
you bring me here and keep me prisoner?"

"The pleasure of my only daughter's society...."

"Oh, you're desp