The man paused a moment as he gazed into the girl's beautiful face. "I am very weak," he said, with a sad smile. "I might accept the reward you offer." And with that he bowed, then turned resolutely on his heel and strode away into the darkness. As he did so he passed Clif; and Clif, as he saw him leave rushed toward the dark figure that stood in the doorway of the hut. What had been Clif's agony of mind may be imagined. When he saw the lieutenant going away it had flashed over him that perhaps he refused the act of treason implied in his going to America. And Clif's heart began to throb once more with the wild hope he had tried so hard to suppress. "Bessie!" he panted. "Bessie! What did he say?" "He has gone back to Havana," was the answer. For an instant the two stood staring at each other, their hearts throbbing with an emotion they were ashamed to call joy. Clif saw the girl's slender figure trembling. And he sprang forward and caught her in his arms just as she fainted dead away. CHAPTER XX. AN UNEXPECTED PERIL. How the long hours between then and sunrise passed away those two hardly knew. Bessie Stuart, exhausted by her long nervous strain, sank into a restless slumber. And Clif sat with his eyes fixed on the gradually lightening doorway. Clif wanted to feel happy, but he scarcely dared. For he had before his mind the thought of that lonely Spanish officer, waiting somewhere in the distance to see them depart and leave him to his fate. It was a solemn thought, and it made Clif tremble. He almost wished that the man had not rescued him. But then again he thought of Ignacio and his frenzied cruelty, and he felt that he would have died himself to save any man from such a fate as that. And now it was done and there was no undoing it. There was no way of aiding the lieutenant, no way of persuading him, nothing but death for him to face. But as Clif sat there through the early hours of the morning and gazed upon that silent figure by his side he felt that his love for that girl was consecrated by that hero's sacrifice. There was a light of high purpose in the brave man's eyes; he was accepting his life and hers at the cost of another's, and the terms were such as made him feel the meaning of his existence. It was to be no child's play, no blind hunt for pleasure or wealth or fame, but a life with a purpose and meaning, a struggle for the right. "I think his face will always be watching me," thought Clif. And there were moments in his after life when the thought that that quiet Spaniard's eyes were watching made him shrink from the base things of life. The light that shone in from the eastern sky gradually grew brighter and brighter, and Clif awakened from his solemn reverie to the duty that lay before him then. He had Bessie Stuart to protect, and to lead from that position of peril.