ank God vengeance was not left to you!'

'It is best. I have buried my brother. The whereabouts of his grave must
be kept secret.'

'Tell me where he lies.' She spoke with eagerness. 'I swear none shall
know from me!'

Done was impressed by her emotion, and the picture of her sobbing figure
prostrate over the body of the outlaw was recalled to his mind. 'Under
the great round boulder above the waterfall to the left, just where the
shadow falls at noon,' he said. 'Better never speak of his death even. I
have warned Yarra, and I think he will be faithful.'

'You can trust me.' She paused for a moment falteringly, and then
continued with an effort and in a low voice: 'I must respect the grave,
for in it my heart is buried. More than my heart,' she continued with
passion--' a part of my very soul. I loved him!' She had made this
confession, feeling that it was her duty to let Jim know that the
tenderness she had felt for him had been swept away in the tide of an
overwhelming love for the other.

Whatever Done's feelings may have been, neither face nor voice betrayed
him. 'Good-bye,' he said, and turned away.

She followed him a few paces, and seized his arm.

'You are not going with unkindness in your heart?' she pleaded.

'No,' he answered. 'I am very sorry for you.'

'I want your friendship always.'

It is yours.'

He held her hands in his, and noticed that there were tears upon her
cheeks. He was certainly sorry for her; it was pitiful to think that her
new happiness had been wrecked in this way, but he could not overcome the
coldness that was about him; and so they parted on the spot where a few
months earlier Jim had said good-bye with a heart full of love and
longing.

XXIV

A BITTER time followed with Jim Done. He had rejoined Harry Peetree at
Blanket Flat, and continued working there; but his strength returned
slowly, and the joy of life had fled from his heart again, leaving him
more miserable than he had been as a youth in his native village. In
those days his resentments helped to sustain him; he took pride in the
spirit with which he faced the enmity of the people, and not a little
comfort came to him from the egotism he had cultivated as a refuge from
the common contempt. Now the fighting spirit was gone all hatred had gone
with it, and his self-confidence had degenerated. For a few weeks after
Ryder's death he made a deliberate effort to stir himself into a state of
passionate revolt, dwelling