Dunwody had not gathered all the story of this woman and her earlier guardian; more than she herself could guess what had been Carlisle’s motive or plan in leaving her to her own devices.  That she was the victim simply of a daring kidnapping could, not have occurred to him.  What then did she mean by talking of prisoners?

“After all, you were not that amanuensis which you yourself claimed to be?”

“I was not.  Of course I was not.  I am the Countess St. Auban.  It is not necessary for me to serve any man, in my capacity.”

“Why, then, did you say you were?”

“Because I thought I was still to be in that gentleman’s charge.  I did not know he was about to desert me.  I preferred his company to worse.”

“He has only given you your own wish—­I hope it is still your wish.  I hope it is not ‘worse.’”

“I beg you to forget that little note from me.  I was only frightened at the thought of a long journey which I did not know then might end so soon.  I only fancied I was in need of help.”

“Tell me one thing,” he began irrelevantly.  “You are countess, as you say.  Who is your husband, and where is he?”

“You have no right to ask.  I must leave you now.  Ah!  If indeed I had a protector here—­some man of that country where men fight—­”

“I have said that you shall not leave.”

“But this passes belief.  It is insult, it is simple outrage!  I am alone—­I come to you asking protection in the name of a man’s chivalry,—­an American’s.  This is what I receive!  You declare yourself to be my new jailer.  What is being done with me?  I never saw Captain Carlisle until three days ago.  And you have met me once, before this moment!  And you are a Southerner; and, they tell me—­”

“That once was enough.”

“Your pardon, sir!  Which way does the conversation tend?”

“To one end only,” he resumed sullenly, desperately.  “You shall not leave.  If you did, I should only follow you.”

“How excellent, to be taken by one brigand, handed over to another brigand, and threatened with perpetual attendance of the latter!  Oh, excellent indeed!  Admirable country!”

“You despise the offer of one who would be a respectful servitor.”

She mocked at him.  “How strange a thing is man!  That is the first argument he makes to a woman, the first promise he makes.  Yet at once he forgets the argument and forgets the promise.  What you desire is to be not my servant, but my master, I should say.  You fancy you are my master?  Well, then, the situation seems to me not without its amusing features.  I am a prisoner, I am set free.  I am sought to be again put in durance, under duress, by a man who claims to be my humble servitor—­who also claims to be a gentleman!  It is most noble of you!  I do not, however, comprehend.”

The dull flush on his face showed at least no weakening on his own part.  “Come now!” he exclaimed impatiently, “let us arrive at the issue.”