As we are, we cannot communicate with our government, and Jaimihr thinks he has us in his grasp.

Let him think it! Let him go ahead! Sooner or later the government must find out that we are missing Then--!" Her eyes blazed at the thought of what would happen then.
Her father looked at her for about a minute, sadness and pride in her fighting in him for the mastery.

Then he rose and crossed the little space between them.
"Lassie!" he said.

"Lassie!" She took his hand--the one little touch of human sentiment lacking to disturb his emotional balance.

The Scots will talk readily enough of sorrow, but at showing it they are a grudging race of men.