t any more; and do you not
think we would have many a pleasant, long summer day on the deck of her,
and only ourselves, Gerty? And you would sing the songs I first heard
you sing, and I think the sailors would imagine they heard the singing
of the mermaid of Colonsay; for there is no one can sing as you can
sing, Gerty. I think it was that first took away my heart from me."

"But we can talk about all these things when I am on shore again," said
she, coldly. "You cannot expect me to be very favorably disposed so
long as I am shut up here."

"But then," he said, "if you were on shore you might go away again from
me, Gerty! The people would get at your ear again; they would whisper
things to you; you would think about the theatres again. I have saved
you, sweetheart; can I let you go back?"

The words were spoken with an eager affection, and yearning; but they
sank into her mind with a dull and cold conviction that there was no
escape for her through any way of artifice.

"Am I to understand, then," said she, "that you mean to keep me a
prisoner here until I marry you?"

"Why do you speak like that, Gerty?"

"I demand an answer to my question."

"I have risked everything to save you; can I let you go back?"

A sudden flash of desperate anger--even of hatred--was in her eyes; her
fine piece of acting had been of no avail.

"Well, let the farce end!" said she, with frowning eyebrows. "Before I
came on board this yacht I had some pity for you. I thought you were at
least a man, and had a man's generosity. Now I find you a coward, and a
tyrant--"

"Gerty!"

"Oh, do not think you have frightened me with your stories of the
revenge of your miserable chiefs and their savage slaves! Not a bit of
it! Do with me what you like; I would not marry you if you gave me a
hundred yachts!"

"Gerty!"

The anguish of his face was growing wild with despair.

"I say, let the farce end! I had pity for you--yes, I had! Now--I hate
you!"

He sprang up with a quick cry, as of one shot to the heart. He regarded
her, in a bewildered manner, for one brief second; and then he gently
said, "Good-night, Gerty! God forgive you!" and he staggered backward,
and got out of the saloon, leaving her alone.

See! the night is still fine. All around this solitary bay there is a
wall of rock, jet black, against the clear, dark sky, with its myriad
twinkling stars. The new moon has arisen; but it sheds but little
radiance yet down there in th