Jack was on his knees with head cocked on one side, pawing round the sand as if he thought Hawksley was some sea-shell lying hidden somewhere close to him.
The sight of the blind man feeling around him with such cautiousness was almost uncanny to his opponent, who was fast coming to the conclusion that Jack was mad; but to poor Loyola, watching him with tear-stained eyes, the piteousness and horror of it was absolutely heartrending.
The very helplessness of his motions brought hot, scalding tears to her eyes, and her love surged within her to the exclusion of every other thought, except that somehow she must manage to protect her blind lover from the scoundrel who called himself her husband.
All the mother's feeling for her child welled up in the woman's heart as she watched, and unable to stand the bitter sight any longer, with a wild, choking cry, she sprang to Jack's side, and, falling on her knees, threw her weak right arm over his shoulders with an indescribable air of loving protection.
"Where is he, Lolie, where is he?" hissed the rover between his teeth; whilst Hawksley, infuriated afresh by her loving action, yelled venomously:
"Get away, you she-devil, get away, or I'll do for you as well," and he began to creep forward with that strange slinking motion of his.
"You coward!" cried the woman, in ringing tones of utter scorn. "You coward, to fight a blind man!"
Then, springing to her feet, she took a stand between her husband and her lover in a posture of splendid defiance, with head thrown back and flashing eyes. At the same moment she snatched a tiny stiletto from the bosom of her dress, a weapon which she had long kept ready for the moment, that moment which so often had nearly arrived, when a steady thrust of the sharp point would be her only escape from what was worse than death.
A sparkle of light glittered on the steel as she held it firm, point outwards and ready for action, with a deadly menace.
"Ho! ho! The little tiger!" sneered Hawksley, stopping in his advance and laughing sardonically.