The reply was bold and clever, so much so that I regarded this blackguard with a certain amount of admiration, as I answered—­

“I shall take your advice if you take mine to leave another business alone, that of this young lady and her father, but not otherwise.”

“Then spare your breath and do your worst; only careful, sharp as you think yourself, that your meddling does not recoil on your own head.  Listen, Heda, either you make up your mind to marry me at once and arrange that this young gentleman, who as a doctor I assure you is now quite fit to travel without injury to his health, leaves this house to-morrow with the spy Quatermain—­you might lend him the Cape cart to go in—­or I start with the proofs to lay a charge of murder against your father.  I give you till to-morrow morning to have a family council to think it over.  Good-night.”

“Good-night,” I answered as he passed me, “and please be careful that none of us see your face again before to-morrow morning.  As you may happen to have heard, my native name means Watcher-by-Night,” and I looked at the revolver in my hand.

When he had vanished I remarked in as cheerful voice as I could command, that I thought it was bedtime, and as nobody stirred, added, “Don’t be afraid, young lady.  If you feel lonely, you must tell that stout maid of yours to sleep in your room.  Also, as the night is so hot I shall take my nap on the stoep, there, just opposite your window.  No, don’t let us talk any more now.  There will be plenty of time for that to-morrow.”

She rose, looked at Anscombe, looked at me, looked at her father very pitifully; then with a little exclamation of despair passed into her room by the French window, where presently I heard her call the native maid and tell her that she was to sleep with her.

Marnham watched her depart.  Then he too went with his head bowed and staggering a little in his walk.  Next Anscombe rose and limped off into his room, I following him.

“Well, young man,” I said, “you have put us all in the soup now and no mistake.”

“Yes, Allan, I am afraid I have.  But on the whole don’t you think it rather interesting soup—­so many unexpected ingredients, you see!”

“Interesting soup!  Unexpected ingredients!” I repeated after him, adding, “Why not call it hell’s broth at once?”

Then he became serious, dreadfully serious.

“Look here,” he said, “I love Heda, and whatever her family history may be I mean to marry her and face the row at home.”

“You could scarcely do less in all the circumstances, and as for rows, that young lady would soon fit herself into any place that you can give her.  But the question is, how can you marry her?”

“Oh! something will happen,” he replied optimistically.

“You are quite right there.  Something will certainly happen, but the point is—­what?  Something was very near happening when I turned up on that stoep, so near that I think it was lucky for you, or for Miss Heda, or both, that I have learned how to handle a pistol.  Now let me see your foot, and don’t speak another word to me about all this business to-night.  I’d rather tackle it when I am clear-headed in the morning.”