not do
it! I demand to be put on shore at once! Do you hear me?"

She turned wildly round, as if to seek for some way of escape. The door
in the ladies' cabin stood open; the clay-light was streaming down into
that cheerful little place; there were some flowers on the
dressing-table. But the way by which she had descended was barred over
and dark.

She faced him again, and her eyes were full of fierce indignation and
anger; she drew herself up to her full height; she overwhelmed him with
taunts, and reproaches, and scorn. That was a splendid piece of acting,
seeing that it had never been rehearsed. He stood unmoved before all
this theatrical rage.

"Oh yes, you were proud of your name," she was saying, with bitter
emphasis; "and I thought you belonged to a race of gentlemen, to whom
lying was unknown. And you were no longer murderous and revengeful; but
you can take your revenge on a woman, for all that! And you ask me to
come and see you, because you are ill! And you have laid a trap--like a
coward!"

"And if I am what you say, Gerty," said he, quite gently, "it is the
love of you that has made me that. Oh, you do not know!"

She saw nothing of the lines that pain had written on this man's face;
she recognized nothing of the very majesty of grief in the hopeless
eyes. He was only her gaoler, her enemy.

"Of course--of course," she said. "It is the woman--it is always the
woman who is in fault! That is a manly thing, to put the blame on the
woman! And it is a manly thing to take your revenge on a woman! I
thought, when a man had a rival, that it was his rival whom he sought
out. But you--you kept out of the way--"

He strode forward and caught her by the wrist. There was a look in his
face that for a second terrified her into silence.

"Gerty," said he, "I warn you! Do not mention that man to me--now or at
any time; or it will be bad for him and for you!"

She twisted her hand from his grasp.

"How dare you come near me!" she cried.

"I beg your pardon," said he, with an instant return to his former grave
gentleness of manner. "I wish to let you know how you are situated, if
you will let me, Gerty. I don't wish to justify what I have done, for
you would not hear me--just yet. But this I must tell you, that I don't
wish to force myself on your society. You will do as you please. There
is your cabin; you have occupied it before. If you would like to have
this saloon, you can have that too; I mean I shall not