"An unpleasant scene of violence, mein liebes Fr?ulein," he remarked, dabbing his forehead with a red handkerchief, "which might so easily have been avoided. But, when men take passion instead of reason for guide—was wollen Sie? The war destroyed logical thinking. To-day it is rare to find anyone capable of taking a perfectly dispassionate view of life. Jawohl!...."  
Marjorie wondered vaguely what he meant. His manner was ingratiating; but she was conscious that he was watching her closely to mark the effect of his words.
 
"We Germans lost the war. Therefore, a man like your friend Okewood believes that everywhere and in all circumstances, the German must be in a state of inferiority. How short-sighted, meine Gn?dige! And what a blemish this want of logic signifies in an otherwise remarkable character! To go no farther a-field in search of an illustration than this delightful island;—war or no war, the fact remains that the strength of my little party puts the Herr Major in an inferiority of thirteen to one. How much wiser on his part it would have been to have recognised this fact yesterday! Let us hope that you will not be so ill-advised as to ignore it! You take my meaning? How quick you are!...."
 
For a minute his thick fingers drummed on the blanket thrown across him.
 
"Your Herr father has gone to fetch the yacht, nicht wahr?"
 
"It is no use asking me," replied Marjorie. "I have not seen my father since I landed on the island...."
 
"So, so!" placidly observed Grundt, "another question for friend Okewood presently. But perhaps you can tell me what has become of Herr Okewood? Where exactly did you leave him?"
 
Marjorie was thinking desperately. It was merely a matter of time, probably of minutes now, she reflected, before I should be captured and dragged out of the cave. But some instinct prompted her, as she told me afterwards, to give no information about me until she had actually seen me once more in Grundt's power. So she simply shrugged her shoulders.
 
"I trust that this gesture does not imply," said Clubfoot, "that you do not know where you left Major Okewood, for that would be acting a lie. And lying, meine Gn?dige, would do you no good in your present predicament. You must not take advantage of our good nature, o, nein! Do not forget that on a desert island man is apt to sink back into his primitive state...."
 
His voice was gentle and caressing; but the implication in his words was horrible.
 
"You come to us unbidden. You throw yourself upon our chivalry. Ja! that is all very well. But have you made sure that the conventions of civilised life obtain in this little island republic of which I am president? Hein, hein, had you thought of that? But won't you please sit down?"
 
"I prefer to stand," replied the girl shortly.
 
"You make me do discredit to our old German courtesy, liebes Fr?ulein. I cannot sit while you remain standing, and in this hot sun .... bitte!"
 
With his spade-like hand he smoothed out a place on the grass under the shade of his tree. Dully, almost against her will, Marjorie sank down.
 
A gleam awoke in the cripple's eyes as he pawed the girl's bare arm.
 
"Listen!" he said, lowering his voice confidentially and leaning towards her. "The Spaniards of my party come without exception from the lowest scum of the Central American sea-board. Their table-talk is enlivened with anecdotes of their—shall we say conquests?—which fill even me with disgust and dismay. And my Germans, yes,—I, a good German, must admit it—they, too, have forgotten something of the conventions of civilised life. For five years or more they have been outlaws, dirty Boches, the rejected of mankind—they who are of that race,"—his voice rang out triumphant but then trembled and broke—"Gott! that is the salt of the earth!"
 
For an instant he seemed to be genuinely moved. Bitter memories kindled a spark of anger in his fierce, dark eyes. But the mood passed swiftly and his voice was gentle, his manner sleek as before when he resumed.
 
"You make it difficult, very difficult for me. You come here, a delicate, fair young maid and you expect to live unscathed in a camp of rough men; for I do not conceal from you the fact, Miss Garth, that unless your father is reasonable you may be with us for many days...."
 
He broke off suggestively. The girl dared not look at him for fear of the thought unspoken she might read............