he leading
part unrevealed.

Durham rushed to the pool, filled his cap with water and came back with
it. Lifting up the drooping head, he moistened the nerveless lips and
bathed the cold temples and pallid cheeks.

"In the--cave--rum."

The whisper was just loud enough for him to hear. Leaning the head once
more against the stone, Durham staggered to the cave. A dark heap lay on
the ground in the shadow. He struck a match.

Numbed as his brain was by the revelation that had come to him, he
shrank back at what he saw.

A pile of woman's clothes; the skirt and jacket which had been impressed
upon his memory only a few hours before under circumstances which form,
perhaps, the one occasion when a man heeds and remembers what a woman
wears; the jaunty hat which had exerted so great a spell upon the
masculine population of the district, and beside it, the most horrible
of all, a wig of luxuriant coal-black hair from which the subtle perfume
that had so often charmed him still floated.

With hands which shook so that he could scarcely hold it, he took the
bottle of rum, bearing Soden's label, from the ground beside the
clothes, and hastened to the mouth of the cave.

In the cold moonlight the figure lay to all appearances dead.

Durham tore open the front of the shirt and pushed in his hand to feel
if the heart still beat.

With the moaning cry of a heart-broken man he reeled back. Then, in a
wild fervour born of his soul's despair, he fell on his knees beside the
prostrate form and tenderly drew the lolling head to his breast and
moistened the blue lips with the spirit.

"Oh, speak! Speak to me! Nora, speak to me and tell me," he wailed.

He reached to take her hands and remembered how he had bound the arms.
Quickly he set them free and chafed the limp fingers.

"Rum--quick--drink," came in a wavering whisper, and he poured some of
the potent spirit between the lips.

Holding her in his arms, with her head resting on his shoulder, he
waited, listening to her faint breathing.

"A little more and--I----"

She was able to raise her hand to steady the bottle which he held. Then
her head fell over again and she lay inert.

He turned his face to watch her. In a momentary fit of remorse and grief
he pressed his lips to hers.

One of her arms stole round his neck and held him to her.

"Oh, my darling, my darling, how I have loved you," he heard her
whisper. "Why did you come to me so late?"

Like a chill of d