"When she is not at the Governor's house--yes."

"What! Why there?"

"I don't know, unless it is the only house in that country where a young
lady of her position--and then her beauty--"

"Under that old satrap's roof? But here, Rimmle, what is the Governor
going to do with Cunningham?"

"Well, Captain, if it should happen that she will marry the Governor's
son, why Cunningham might be allowed--you know how, Captain, ho!
ho!--surely, to escape. Especially as nobody seems to mourn the man he
shot. But when she seemed slow to fall in with their wishes, and as
Cunningham had converted all his property into gold and diamonds and
shipped them or hid them--though no search has unearthed
them--preparatory to shooting the Governor's friend, why they grew
suspicious and threatened to push matters. Cunningham was nominally
under arrest always. And then he fell sick. How sick? Hard to say. But
should he die, or be punished--imprisoned, say--for the duel, consider
it. She is a beautiful girl, true, but human, and in time in that
lonesome country where white gentlemen of social position are so
scarce--! And, after all--the Governor of Momba's son and--"

"Rimmle"--Captain Blaise had stood up to look through an air port--"it's
a fair wind for me. Shall I put you ashore?"

"Ashore? Why, yes, yes! Bless me, I've had quite a stay, haven't I? But
if you care to try again, Captain, my friend Hassan is into Momba. He
will be aboard, no fear. If you do business with him, Captain, why, draw