e stood by the men of your
family,--if you're cad enough to let her."

That caught and stuck. "If I'm--cad enough to let her," said Jimsy in a
curiously flat voice. But the mood passed in a flash. "It's no use
talking like that, Carter. Of course I know I'm not good enough or
brainy enough--or _anything_ enough for Skipper, but she thinks I am,
and----"

"You poor fool, she doesn't think so. I tell you she's only standing by
because she said she would. I tell you she cares for some one else."

"That's a lie," said Jimsy King with emphasis but without passion. The
statement was too grotesque for any feeling over it.

Carter stopped raving and snarling and became very cool and coherent.
"I think I can prove it to you," he said, quietly.

"You can't," said Jimsy, turning and walking toward the door.

"Are you afraid to listen?" He asked it very quietly.

"No," said Jimsy King, wheeling. "I'm not afraid. Go ahead. Get it off
your chest."

"Well, in the first place,--hasn't she kept you at arm's length here?
Hasn't she insisted on being with other people all the time,--on having
me with you?"

"Cart', I hate to say it, but that's because she's sorry for you."

"And for herself."

The murky dimness of the _sala_ was pressing in on Jimsy as it had on
the girl, that other day. He was worn with vigil and torn with thirst,
sick with dread of what might any moment come to them,--with remorse for
bringing Honor there, tormented with his helplessness to save her. Even
at his best he was no match for the other's cleverness and now he was in
the dust, blaming and hating himself. He stood there in silence,
listening, and Carter's hoarse voice, Carter's plausible words, went on
and on. "But I don't believe it," Jimsy would say at intervals. "She
doesn't care for you, Cart'. She's all mine, Skipper is. She doesn't
care for you."

"Wait!" Carter took out his wallet of limp leather with his initials on
it in delicately wrought gold letters and opened it. "I didn't mean to
show you this, but I see that I must. It was last summer. I--I lost my
head the night before we sailed, and let Honor see.... Then I asked
her.... I didn't say, 'Will you marry me?' because I knew there was no
hope of that so long as she thought there was a chance of saving you by
standing by you. I asked her--something else. And she sent me this wire
to the boat at Naples."

Jimsy did not put out his hand to take the slip of paper which Carter
unfolded a