CHAPTER XXIV The next day came, bright and sweet. The ship was to sail at noon. At ten o'clock the farewells were being said. There were tears and heartaches, and there was fierce rebellion in the hearts of two of the voyagers. Yvonne had declined to go to the pier to see them off, and Brood was going away without a word to her about the future. That was manifest to the anxious, soul-tried watchers. In silence they made their way out to the waiting automobile. As Brood was about to pass through the broad front door a resolute figure confronted him. For a moment master and man stared hard into each other's eyes, and then, as if obeying an inflexible command, the former turned to glance backward into the hallway. Yvonne was standing in the library door. “_Sahib!_” said the Hindu, and there was strange authority in his voice. “Tell her, _sahib_. It is not so cruel to tell her as it would be to go away without a word. She is waiting to be told that you do not want her to remain in your home.” Brood closed his eyes for a second, and then strode quickly toward his wife. “Yvonne, they all want me to take you along with us,” he said, his voice shaking with the pent-up emotion of weeks. She met his gaze calmly, almost serenely. “But, of course, it is quite impossible,” she said. “I understand, James.” “It is not possible,” he said, steadying his voice with an effort. “That is why I thought it would be better to say good-bye here and not at the pier. We must have some respect for appearances, you know.” He searched her eyes intently, looking for some sign of weakening on her part. He did not know whether to feel disappointed or angry at what he saw. “I don't believe you would have gone if I had----” “You need not say it, James. You did not ask me, and I have not asked anything of you.” “Before I go,” he said nervously, “I want to say this to you: I have no feeling of resentment toward you. I am able to look back upon what you would have done without a single thought of anger. You have stood by me in time of trouble. I owe a great deal to you, Yvonne. You will not accept my gratitude--it would be a farce to offer it to you under the circumstances. But I want you to know that I am grateful. You------” “Go on, please. This is the moment for you to say that your home cannot be mine. I am expecting it.” His eyes hardened. “I shall never say that to you, Yvonne. You are my wife. I shall expect you to remain my wife to the very end.” Now, for the first time, her eyes flew open with surprise. A bewildered expression came into them almost at once. He had said the thing she least expected. She put out her hand to steady herself against the door. “Do--do you mean that, James?” she said wonderingly.