She was still trembling, but flattered, and relieved that he asked for nothing save sympathy. That of course she was at liberty to bestow on a deserving object. She was wholly inexperienced, easily deceived by flattery. ‘Have I frightened you?’ asked Martin. ‘Am I so dreadful, so unsightly an object as to inspire you with aversion and terror?’ He drew himself up and paused. Eve hastily looked at him. He was a strikingly handsome man, with dark hair, wonderful dark eyes, and finely chiselled features. ‘I said that I put my life in your hands. I spoke the truth. You have but to betray me, and the police and the parish constables will come in a _posse_ after me. I will stand here with folded arms to receive them; but mark my words, as soon as they set foot on this rock, I will fling myself over the edge and perish. If _you_ sacrifice me, my life is not worth saving.’ ‘I will not betray you,’ faltered Eve. ‘I know it. You are too noble, too true, too heroic to be a traitress. I knew it when I came here and placed myself at your mercy.’ ‘But,’ said Eve timidly, ‘what have you done? You have taken my ring. Give it back to me, and I will not send the constables after you.’ ‘You have mine.’ ‘I will return it.’ ‘About that hereafter,’ said Martin grandly, and he waved his hand. ‘Now I answer your question, What have I done? I will tell you everything. It is a long story and a sad one. Certain persons come out badly in it whom I would spare. But it may not be otherwise. Self-defence is the first law of nature. You have, no doubt, heard a good deal about me, and not to my advantage. I have been prejudiced in your eyes by Jasper. He is narrow, does not make allowances, has never recovered the straitlacing father gave him as a child. His conscience has not expanded since infancy.’ Eve looked at Martin with astonishment. ‘Mr. Jasper Babb has not said anything—’ ‘Oh, there!’ interrupted Martin, ‘you may spare your sweet lips the fib. I know better than that. He grumbles and mumbles about me to everyone who will open an ear to his tales. If he were not my brother——’ Now Eve interrupted him. ‘Mr. Jasper your brother!’ ‘Of course he is. Did he not tell you so?’ He saw that she had not known by the expression of her face, so, with a laugh, he said, ‘Oh dear, no! Of course Jasper was too grand and sanctimonious a man to confess to the blot in the family. I am that blot—look at me!’ He showed his handsome figure and face by a theatrical gesture and position. ‘Poor Martin is the blot, to which Jasper will not confess, and yet—Martin survives this neglect and disrespect.’