ge.

Ormsby had cowered back to the opposite wall, covering his face. 'Go
away!' he gasped. 'Cameron--_you_ ask her to go. She--she liked you....
I never meant it. Tell her I never meant to do it!'

I could not understand such terror at the sight of Marjory, even if she
had been what he thought her; but there was a reason in his case.

'You were going to hurt Cameron,' said Marjory, at length, and her voice
sounded sad and grave and far-away.

'I don't care, Marjory,' I cried, 'not now you are here!'

She motioned me back: 'You must not come nearer,' she said. 'I cannot
stay long, and I must speak to Ormsby. Ormsby, have you told anyone?'

'No,' he said, shaking all over, 'it could do no good.... I thought I
needn't.'

'Tell _him_,' said Marjory.

'Must I? Oh, no, no!' he groaned, 'don't make me do that!'

'You must,' she answered, and he turned to me with a sullen fear.

'It was like this,' he began; 'that night, when I was waiting for you
down there--I had some string, and it struck me, all in a moment, that
it would be fun to trip you up. I didn't mean to hurt you--only frighten
you. I fastened the string across a little way from the bottom. And
then'--he had to moisten his lips before he could go on--'then _she_
came down, and I tried to catch her--and couldn't--no, I couldn't!'

'Is that all?' asked Marjory, as he stopped short.

'I cut the string and hid it before you came. Now you know, and you may
tell if you like!'

'Cameron, you will never tell, will you--as long as he lives?' said
Marjory. 'You must promise.'

I was horrified by what I had heard; but her eyes were upon me, and I
promised.

'And you, Ormsby, promise me to be kinder to him after this.'

He could not speak; but he made a sign of assent.

'And now,' said Marjory, 'shake hands with him and forgive him.'

But I revolted: 'No, Marjory, I can't; not now--when I know this!'

'Cameron, dear,' she said, 'you won't let me go away sorry, will you?
and I must go so soon. For my sake, when I wish it so!'

I went to Ormsby, and took his cold, passive hand. 'I do forgive him,
Marjory,' I said.

She smiled brightly at us both. 'And you won't forget, either of you?'
she said. 'And, Douglas, you will be brave, and take your own part now.
Good-bye, good-bye.'

I tried to reach her. 'Don't leave me; take me with you, Marjory--dear,
dear Marjory, don't go!' But there was only firelit space where she had
stood, though the sound of her plea