Then he was dreaming; he was now in fiery earnest, for that reason accessible to facts presented to him; and Rosamund’s reluctantly spoken words brought his stubborn uncle before his eyes, inflicting a sense of helplessness of the bitterest kind. They were all silent. Beauchamp stared at the lines of the deck-planks. His scheme to rescue Renée was right and good; but was he the man that should do it? And was she, moreover, he thought—speculating on her bent head—the woman to be forced to brave the world with him, and poverty? She gave him no sign. He was assuredly not the man to pretend to powers he did not feel himself to possess, and though from a personal, and still more from a lover’s, inability to see all round him at one time and accurately to weigh the forces at his disposal, he had gone far, he was not a wilful dreamer nor so very selfish a lover. The instant his consciousness of a superior strength failed him he acknowledged it. Renée did not look up. She had none of those lightnings of primitive energy, nor the noble rashness and reliance on her lover, which his imagination had filled her with; none. That was plain. She could not even venture to second him. Had she done so he would have held out. He walked to the head of the boat without replying. Soon after this the boat was set for Venice again. When he rejoined his companions he kissed Rosamund’s hand, and Renée, despite a confused feeling of humiliation and anger, loved him for it. Glittering Venice was now in sight; the dome of Sta. Maria Salute shining like a globe of salt. Roland flung his arm round his friend’s neck, and said, “Forgive me.” “You do what you think right,” said Beauchamp. “You are a perfect man of honour, my friend, and a woman would adore you. Girls are straws. It’s part of Renée’s religion to obey her father. That’s why I was astonished!... I owe you my life, and I would willingly give you my sister in part payment, if I had the giving of her; most willingly. The case is, that she’s a child, and you?” “Yes, I’m dependent,” Beauchamp assented. “I can’t act; I see it. That scheme wants two to carry it out: she has no courage. I feel that I could carry the day with my uncle, but I can’t subject her to the risks, since she dreads them; I see it. Yes, I see that! I should have done well, I believe; I should have saved her.” “Run to England, get your uncle’s consent, and then try.” “No; I shall go to her father.” “My dear Nevil, and supposing you have Renée to back you—supposing it, I say—won’t you be falling on exactly the same bayonet-point?” “If I leave her!” Beauchamp interjected. He perceived the quality of Renée’s unformed character which he could not express. “But we are to suppose that she loves you?” “She is a girl.”