‘Oh, don’t do that!’ cried the girl hurriedly. ‘I ain’t worthy of it, mistress, nor of nothing that’s happened to me neither, and I’ve told Will as much. Only he’s good enough to overlook all my faults, and say he’ll take me as I am. And you’ll come and live with us, won’t you, my pretty? We’ll all go straight up into the bush as soon as ever we land, and there I’ll work to my life’s end to try and make you comfortable and happy.’ ‘My dear Maggie,’ remonstrated Iris, ‘you forget. Mr Harland is on board, and I have taken this step to be with him. It is an immense load off my mind to think you are so happily provided for, for I have always been fearful lest he should resent your having accompanied me; but my place is by his side, and as soon as ever we come in sight of land, I shall walk boldly up to him and declare myself. I hate the thought of it,’ continued Iris, with the tears in her soft eyes. ‘I despise him, and I fear him. But it is his business to maintain me, and my right to demand support from him, and I mean to have it.’ ‘But, mistress,’ said Maggie, in an earnest tone, ‘you _mustn’t_ go with him. It isn’t safe. He is a _bad_ man--ah, much worse than you’ve ever thought of!--and he’d kill you as soon as look at you if you happened to be in his way. Don’t think of it any more. He’s made you miserable all along, and he’ll make you miserable again. Come with Will and me, and forget all about that brute. And after a while, perhaps, you’ll meet with some one as will make you _really_ happy, and then all the past will look like a bad dream to you.’ ‘But, Maggie,’ replied Iris, with mild astonishment, ‘you forget that I am _married_ to him. How can I get free, or have the liberty to think of another man? Whilst Mr Harland lives, I must bear my burden as best I can.’ ‘I don’t know that,’ said Maggie oracularly. ‘He may free you himself, and sooner than you think for, if you’ll only leave him alone, and give him enough rope to hang himself with.’ ‘Maggie! What _do_ you mean? Have you heard anything? You see I am afraid even to talk with the other passengers, for fear of my identity becoming known!’ ‘You talk with Mr Blythe sometimes, and I should think he was a very nice young man to talk with, too,’ remarked Maggie dryly. Iris blushed crimson. ‘Oh, yes! he is very kind. I knew him years ago in Scotland, Maggie. But, of course, I never speak to him of Mr Harland. Indeed, I was so afraid he might find out something about us, that I told him I was a widow, for which I have often been sorry since. But do tell me what you meant by saying that.’ ‘Well, I meant this, mistress. That that villain (thinking he has got well rid of you and me) is making up to another woman.’ ‘What woman? Who told you so?’ demanded Iris quickly.