treat me so cruelly," she
said after a long silence which she Bought to break but could not. He
distinguished in this pathetic command, meant to be firm and positive,
the tremor of tears.

"I--I do not treat you cruelly, Tennys," he answered disjointly, still
looking at the slight, graceful figure, as if unable to withdraw
his eyes.

"What do you call it?" she asked bitterly.

"You wrong me--" he began.

"Wrong you? No, I do not. You saved me from the sea and you have done
much for me until within the past few weeks. I had begun to forget that
I am here because fate substituted me for another. Hugh, do not let your
love for Grace and your regret at not having saved her turn you against
me. I am not here because I could have helped it. You must know
that I--"

"For Heaven's sake, Tennys, don't talk like that! The trouble is that I
do not regret having saved you. That's why you see the change in
me--that's why I've hurt you. I cannot be to you what I would be--I
cannot and be true to myself," he cried fiercely.

"What do you mean? Why are you so unhappy, Hugh? Have I hurt you?' she
asked, coming quite close in sudden compassion.

"Hurt me!" he exclaimed. "You will kill me!" She paled with the thought
that he was delirious again or crazed from the effects of the fever.

"Don't say that, Hugh. I care more for you than for any one in the
world. Why should I hurt you?" she asked tenderly, completely
misunderstanding him.

"You don't mean to, but you do. I have tried to conquer it but I cannot.
Don't you know why I have forced myself to be unhappy during the past
few weeks? Can't you see why I am making you unhappy, too, in my
struggle to beat down the something that has driven everything else out
of my mind?"

"Don't talk so, Hugh; it will be all right. Come home now and I will
give you some wine and put some cool bandages on your head. You are not
well." She was so gentle, so unsuspecting that he could contain himself
no longer.

"I love you--I worship you! That is why I am cruel to you!" he burst
out. A weakness assailed him and he leaned dizzily against the tree at
his side. He dared not look at her, but he marvelled at her silence. If
she loved him, as he believed, why was she so quiet, so still?

"Do you know what you say?" she asked slowly.

"I have said it to myself a thousand times since I left you at the
temple. I did not intend to tell you; I had sworn you should never know
it. What do you think o