"Then stay. Listen: I will give you love such as woman never gave man before. I loved your cousin as a weak, foolish girl loves the first man who whispers compliments and sings her praises. It is to her all new and strange, the realisation of something of which she had dreamed. But as the veil fell from my eyes, and I saw how cowardly and base he was, that love withered away, and I thought that love was dead. But when you came my heart leaped, and I trembled and wondered. I shrank from you, telling myself that it was a momentary fancy; and I lied, for it was the first strong love of a lonely woman, thirsting for the sympathy of one who could love her in return." "Oh! hush--hush!" cried Humphrey. "I have told you that it can never be." "And she will never love you as I would--as I do," came in a low, imploring whisper. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" cried Humphrey. "Even if it were not so I could not--No, I will not speak. I only say, for pity's sake let us part." He paused, for there was no reply. "You do not answer," he said, gently. "Think of what I say. I cannot give you love. I should be unworthy of yours if I could. My friendship I can give, and it shall be devoted to saving you from this life." Still no reply; and the silence and darkness seemed deeper than before. "You do not take my hand!" he said, bitterly. "You do not listen to my words! Come, for heaven's sake be just to me. Say that I have spoken well." Still no reply, and he listened as he leaned forward; but there was nothing to be heard but the beating of his own heart. He leaned forward with outstretched hand, and bending down it touched the cold stone of the altar. He swept his hand to left and right, listening intently; but there was no sound. "Why do you not speak?" he said, sternly, as he realised the folly of his first surmise. His words seemed to murmur in the roof and die away, but there was no reply. He took a few steps in different directions, suddenly and quickly, listening intently the while, feeling certain that he would hear her try to avoid him; but all was silent, and at last he made for the entrance, drew aside the curtain, and stood listening there. Feeling sure that his visitor could not have gone that way he turned back, and with outstretched hands paced the great chamber to and fro till at each crossing he touched the stone wall. Satisfied at length that he was alone, and that the great stone which formed his couch had not been moved, he went once more to the great curtain, pulled it aside, and passed through so as to go along the corridor, for now that his visitor had left him the desire to speak again came strongly. Half-way down the passage he suddenly became aware of an advancing light, and directly after he saw that it was gleaming from the brown face of Bart. "Hallo! What now?" he growled. "Where are you going?" "The captain! Did you meet the captain?" said Humphrey hastily.