She reached the gate of the government property, but she did not open it. She was certain he would not be in the light keeper's cottage; she seemed to have an intuition as to where he was, and, turning, followed the path along the edge of the bluff. She followed it for perhaps three hundred yards, then she saw him. He was sitting upon a knoll, his hands clasped about his knees. The early dusk of the gloomy afternoon was rapidly closing in, the raindrops were falling more thickly, but he did not seem to realize these facts, or, if he did, to care. He sat there, a huddled little bundle of misery, and her heart went out to him. He did not hear her approach. She came and stood beside him. “Mr. Bangs,” she said. Then he looked up, saw her, and scrambled to his feet. “Why--why, Miss Martha!” he exclaimed. “I did not see you--ah--hear you, I mean. What is it? Is anything wrong?” She nodded. She found it very hard to speak and, when she did do so, her voice was shaky. “Yes,” she said, “there is. Somethin' very wrong. Why did you telegraph the Institute folks that you wouldn't accept their offer?... Oh, I found it out. Ras Beebe couldn't get one word in your message and he read it to me over the 'phone. But that doesn't matter. That doesn't count. Why did you refuse, Mr. Bangs?” He put his hand to his forehead. “I--I am sorry if it troubled you,” he said. “I didn't mean for you to know it--ah--yet. I refused because--well, because I did not care to accept. The--the whole thing did not appeal to me, somehow. I have lost interest in it--ah--quite. Dear me, yes--quite.” “Lost interest! In Egypt? In such a wonderful chance as this gives you? Oh, you can't! You mustn't!” He sighed and then smiled. “It does seem queer, doesn't it?” he admitted. “Yet it is quite true. I have lost interest. I don't seem to care even for Egypt. Now that is very odd.” “But--but if you refuse this what WILL you do?” He smiled again. “I don't know,” he said. “I don't seem to care. But it is quite all right, Miss Martha. Really it is. I--I wouldn't have you think--Oh, dear, no!” “But what WILL you do? Tell me.” “I don't know. No doubt I shall do something. One has to do that, I suppose. It is only that--” Then, as a new thought came to him, he turned to her in alarm. “Oh, of course,” he cried, hastily, “I sha'n't remain here. Please don't think I intend imposing upon you longer. I shall go--ah--at once--to-morrow--ah almost immediately. You have been extremely kind and long-suffering already and--and--” She interrupted. “Don't!” she said, hurriedly. “Don't! Mr. Bangs, have you truly made up your mind not to go to Egypt with that expedition? Won't you PLEASE do it, if I beg you to?” He slowly shook his head. “It is like you,” he said, “to take such an interest, but, if--if you don't mind, I had rather not. I can't. Really, I--ah--can't. It--Well, the thought of it--ah--repels me. Please don't ask me, Miss Martha, because--I can't.”