"Is this some joke, sir, that I fail to grasp?" she asked. "Will you not explain?"
"Explain, hell!" and Fagin clapped his hat on his head, uttering a rough oath. "I spoke plain enough. Yer a-goin' ter marry Grant, here an' now, an' there's the parson, waitin' ter do the job."
She partly turned, and as she recognized Jenks, the color deserted her cheeks, and her hands grasped the side of the door for support.
"Marry Captain Grant! I?" she exclaimed, horrified. "No, never!"
"Oh, I guess yer will, my beauty. Good Lord, why not? He's not so bad; there's many a girl would jump at the chance. Your plantations join, an' he's a King's officer."
"Listen to me, sir," she broke in, now cool and determined. "I'll give you my answer. I have already given it to Captain Grant. I will not marry him--not even to save this house from destruction; not even to release my brother from your hands. We can suffer, if necessary, for we are of a fighting race, but I shall never yield to threats."
[Illustration: "Let me pass, sir! This is my father's house"]
She swept past him, around the end of the table, and confronted Grant, who drew back a step, scowling.
"So this is your way, is it, to win a woman you cannot gain by fair means? No, there is no need of your answering; I understand the whole despicable scheme. You masquerading as a prisoner of this creature! You are his puppet. I've known it for months. I learned the truth from Eric, and from that moment I despised you. While I believed you an honorable soldier I was able to treat you with outward respect, but no longer. You threatened me with a forced marriage once before, and failed. Now you endeavor to succeed with the help of this outlaw. But you never shall! No, do not speak! do not hold out your hands to me! You are not a prisoner. These men are here at your instigation; you are concerned in their infamy. I would rather die than have you touch me!"
She turned her back upon him, her face white, her eyes blazing, but Fagin stood between her and the entrance, grinning savagely.
"Let me pass, sir; this is my father's house."
"Not while I am here, Mistress," he snarled, without moving. "The old man isn't ridin' after me with a squadron of cavalry to-day. This happens to be my turn to give orders, and yer to obey! Do yer hear--yer'll obey! Those weren't pretty words yer spoke to Grant, but they don't hurt me none. You damned little spitfire, I'd marry yer myself if I could, just to break yer spirit. As it is, I'll show yer yer master fer once. So it's the spy yer want, is it?"