planted now. "And is that all?" she asked herself, not bitterly,
but with a sort of tender contempt.

"He is so sane," sounded Lingard's voice, gloomily, "that if I had
listened to him you would not have found me here."

"What do you mean by here? In this stockade?"

"Anywhere," he said.

"And what would have happened then?"

"God knows," he answered. "What would have happened if the world had not
been made in seven days? I have known you for just about that time. It
began by me coming to you at night--like a thief in the night. Where the
devil did I hear that? And that man you are married to thinks I am no
better than a thief."

"It ought to be enough for you that I never made a mistake as to what
you are, that I come to you in less than twenty-four hours after you
left me contemptuously to my distress. Don't pretend you didn't hear me
call after you. Oh, yes, you heard. The whole ship heard me for I had no
shame."

"Yes, you came," said Lingard, violently. "But have you really come? I
can't believe my eyes! Are you really here?"

"This is a dark spot, luckily," said Mrs. Travers. "But can you really
have any doubt?" she added, significantly.

He made a sudden movement toward her, betraying so much passion that
Mrs. Travers thought, "I shan't come out alive this time," and yet he
was there, motionless before her, as though he had never stirred. It
was more as though the earth had made a sudden movement under his feet
without being able to destroy his balance. But the earth under Mrs.
Travers' feet had made no movement and for a second she was overwhelmed
by wonder not at this proof of her own self-possession but at the man's
immense power over himself. If it had not been for her strange inward
exhaustion she would perhaps have surrendered to that power. But it
seemed to her that she had nothing in her worth surrendering, and it
was in a perfectly even tone that she said, "Give me your arm, Captain
Lingard. We can't stay all night on this spot."

As they moved on she thought, "There is real greatness in that man."
He was great even in his behaviour. No apologies, no explanations, no
abasement, no violence, and not even the slightest tremor of the frame
holding that bold and perplexed soul. She knew that for certain because
her fingers were resting lightly on Lingard's arm while she walked
slowly by his side as though he were taking her down to dinner. And yet
she couldn't suppose for a moment, that, like her