Lovibond saw his opportunity, and yet could not lay hold of it, so cruel at that moment seemed the only weapon that would be effectual. But Davy himself thrust in between him and his timid spirit. With another hollow laugh, as if half ashamed of keeping up the deception to the last, yet convinced that he alone could see through it, he said, “No news of the girl in the church, mate, eh? Gone home, I suppose?” “Not yet,” said Lovibond. “No?” said Davy. “The fact is--but you’ll be secret?” “Coorse.” “It isn’t a thing I’d tell everybody--” “What?” “You see, if her husband has treated her like a brute, she’s his wife, after all.” Davy drew up on the path. “What is it?” he said. “I’m to meet her to-night, alone,” said Lovibond. “No!” “Yes; in the grounds of Castle Mona, by the waterfall, after dark--at eight o’clock, in fact. “Castle Mona--by the waterfall--eight o’clock--that’s a--now, that must be a--” Davy had lifted his pipe hand to give emphasis to the protest on his lips, when he stopped and laughed, and said, “Amazing thick, eh?” “Why not,” said Lovibond? “Who wouldn’t be with a sweet woman like that? If the fool that’s left her doesn’t know her worth, so much the better for somebody else.” “Then you’re for making it up there?” said Davy, clearing his throat. “It’ll not be my fault if I don’t,” said Lovibond. “I’m not one of the wise asses that talk big about God’s law and man’s law; and if I were, man’s law has tied this sweet little woman to a brute, and God’s law draws her to me--that’s all.” “And she’s willing, eh?” said Davy. “Give her time, Capt’n,” said Lovibond. “But didn’t you say she was loving this--this brute of a husband?” said Davy. “Time, Capt’n, time,” said Lovibond. “That will mend with time.” “And, manewhile, she’s tellin’ you all her secrets.” “I leave you to judge, Capt’n.” “After dark, you say--that’s middling tidy to begin with, eh, mate--eh?” Lovibond laughed: Capt’n Davy laughed. They laughed together. Willie Quarrie, standing by the boat at the bottom of the steps, with the luggage piled up at the bow, shouted that there was not a minute to spare. The throbbing of the steam in the funnel had ceased, one of the two gangways had been run ashore, and the captain was on the bridge. “Now, then, Capt’n,” cried Willie. But Davy did not hear. He was watching Lovibond’s face with eyes of suspicion. Was the man fooling him? Did he know the secret? “Good-by Capt’n,” said Lovibond, taking Davy by the hand. “Good-by, mate,” said Davy, absently. “Good luck to you and a second fortune,” said Lovibond. “Damn the fortune,” said Davy, under his breath. Then there was another whistle from the “Snaefell.” “Capt’n Davy! Capt’n Davy!” cried Willie Quarrie. “Coming,” answered Davy. But still he stood at the top of the ferry steps, holding Lovibond’s hand, and looking into his face. Then there came a loud voice from the bridge of the steamer--“Steam up!”