The old man and the girl were equally terrified, both without cause.

Da Souza forgot for a moment to be angry at his daughter's disobedience; and was quick to see that her presence there was all to his advantage.
Monty, as white as death, was stricken dumb to see Trent.

He sank back gasping into a chair.

Trent came up to him with outstretched hands and with a look of keen pity in his hard face.
"Monty, old chap," he said, "what on earth are you scared at?
Don't you know I'm glad to see you! Didn't I come to Attra to get you back to England?
Shake hands, partner.

I've got lots of money for you and good news." Monty's hand was limp and cold, his eyes were glazed and expressionless.
Trent looked at the half-empty bottle by his side and turned savagely to Da Souza.
"You blackguard!" he said in a low tone, "you wanted to kill him, did you?
Don't you know that to shut him up here and ply him with brandy is as much murder as though you stood with a knife at his throat ?" "He goes mad without something to drink," Da Souza muttered.
"He'll go mad fast enough with a bottle of brandy within reach, and you know it," Trent answered fiercely.