Still standing there, he
turned and spoke in a low, concentrated voice:
"No," he said, "I can't see that it is out of the question. On the
contrary, it seems only natural that she should marry the man who is
her brother's partner in many a little--speculation."
Maurice Gordon, sitting there, staring hopelessly into the half-
breed's yellow face, saw it all. He went back in a flash of
recollection to many passing details which had been unnoted at the
time--details which now fitted into each other like the links of a
chain--and that chain was around him. He leapt forward in a
momentary opening of the future, and saw himself ruined, disgraced,
held up to the execration of the whole civilised world. He was
utterly in this man's power--bound hand and foot. He could not say
him no. And least of all could he say no to this demand, which had
roused all the latent chivalry, gentlemanliness, brotherly love,
that was in him. Maurice Gordon knew that Victor Durnovo possessed
knowledge which Jocelyn would consider cheap at the price of her
person.
There was one way out of it. His hand was still on the handle of
the top right-hand drawer. He was a dead shot. His finger was
within two inches of the stock of a revolver. One bullet for Victor
Durnovo, another for himself.
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