without her permission, you
know!" In a moment he repented of the ghastly pleasantry into which
exasperation had led him. "Forgive me, Cheniston--the thing's got on my
nerves ... I hardly know what I'm saying...."

Cheniston, who had turned a sickly white beneath his bronze, looked at
him fiercely.

"I'm making all allowances for you," he said between his teeth, "but I
can't stand much of that sort of thing, you know. Suppose you tell me,
without more ado, the nature of the--the bargain between you."

Without more ado Anstice complied.

"Miss Ryder made me promise that if the sun should rise before any help
came to us I would shoot her with my own hand so that she should not
have to face death--or worse--at the hands of our enemies."

"You thought it might be--worse?"

"Yes. My father was a doctor in China at the time of the Boxer rising,"
said Anstice with apparent irrelevance. "And as a boy I heard stories
of--of atrocities to women--which haunted me for years. On my soul,
Cheniston"--he spoke with a sincerity which the other man could not
question--"I was ready--no, glad, to do Miss Ryder the service she asked
me."

Twice Cheniston tried to speak, and twice his dry lips refused their
office. At last he conquered his weakness.

"You waited till the sun rose ... and then ... you were sure ... you did
not doubt that the moment had come?"

"No. I waited as long as I dared ... the sun had risen and we heard the
clamour in the courtyard outside...."

"And so----" Again his parched lips would not obey his bidding.

"When the men were at the very door of the hut I carried out my
promise," said Anstice steadily. "She closed her eyes ... I told her to,
so that she should not be afraid to see death coming ... and then ..."
at the recollection of that last poignant moment a slow shudder shook
him from head to foot, "... it was all over in a second. She did not
suffer--of that, at least, you may be certain."

Cheniston's hand was over his eyes; and for a space the room was very
still.

Then:

"And you--you went out, as you thought, to meet your own death?"

"Yes--and I wish to God I'd met it," said Anstice with an uncontrollable
outburst of bitterness. "I endured the shame, the horror of it all in
vain. You know what happened ... how just as the men were about to fire
the rescuers burst into the courtyard.... My God, why were they so late!
Or, being late, why did they come at all!"

Cheniston's blue eyes, whi