"For mercy, Judith," he would have said, but the look of her face stopped the words in an unheard whisper; and he stooped slowly, feeling carefully for a step, and letting himself weakly down in a way that almost unnerved her again; but he had begun to talk now, quietly and evenly, and without looking up at her. "I'm not going to stay long. I'm not going to worry you. I'll go away in just a moment; but I had to come; I had to come. I've been a little sick, and I believe I've not quite got over the fever yet; but I couldn't go through it again without seeing you. I know that, and that's--why--I've--come. It isn't the fever. Oh, no; I'm not sick at all. I'm very well, thank you----" He was getting incoherent, and he knew it, and stopped a moment. "It's you, Judith----" He stopped again, and with a painful effort went on slowly--slowly and quietly, and the girl, without a word, stood still, looking down at him. "I--used--to--think--that--I--loved--you. I--used--to--think I was--a--man. I didn't know what love was, and I didn't know what it was to be a man. I know both now, thank God, and learning each has helped me to learn the other. If I killed all your feeling for me, I deserve the loss; but you must have known, Judith, that I was not myself that night. You did know. Your instinct told you the truth; you--knew--I loved--you--then--and that's why--that's why--you--God bless you--said--what--you--did. To think that I should ever dare to open my lips again! but I can't help it; I can't help it. I was crazy, Judith--crazy--and I am now; but it didn't go and then come back. It never went at all, as I found out, going down to Cuba--and yes, it did come back; but it was a thousand times higher and better love than it had ever been, for everything came back and I was a better man. I have seen nothing but your face all the time--nothing--nothing, all the time I've been gone; and I couldn't rest or sleep--I couldn't even die, Judith, until I had come to tell you that I never knew a man could love a woman as--I--love--you--Judith. I----" He rose very slowly, turned, and as he passed from the light, his weakness got the better of him for the first time, because of his wounds and sickness, and his voice broke in a half sob--the sob that is so terrible to a woman's ears; and she saw him clinch his arms fiercely around his breast to stifle it. * * * * *