But he does not wait to be told. There is so dangerous a look in Joshua's face, that he darts away and disappears in the bush. It is well for him that he has escaped, for Joshua is maddened by what he has heard. Truly the Lascar has struck at him with a cunning hand. The agony of his soul is shown in the convulsive twitching of his features, in his white lips, and in the veins of his strong hand, which swell almost to bursting as he grasps a stout branch for support. So he remains fighting with his agony with a bleeding heart, for full half an hour. This knowledge that he has gained is more bitter than all the rest. He knows the worst now. The evidence against him is awful in its completeness. "Even the Old Sailor will believe me guilty," he thinks, and groans aloud at the thought. But there is one duty before him to do. He must tell Minnie. This last resolve comes upon him when the force of his first passion is somewhat spent. Between him and Minnie no word has ever passed of those at home; their very names have been avoided. But Joshua now makes up his mind that silence on this subject must be broken. It _must_; both for Minnie's sake and his own. It is past sundown. The day has been very hot, and the shadows of night bring cooler breezes, grateful to the senses of the castaways. Joshua has drawn Minnie a little apart from the others; she, yielding to his slightest wish, accompanies him to a part of the forest where they can talk unobserved. His first impulse is to ask her why she came on board the "Merry Andrew" unknown to him, and why she had disguised herself from him; but he spares her this pain, and takes from his breast Ellen's portrait and her lock of hair, and Dan's Bible. He hands Minnie the Bible. "Do you know what this is?" he asks. "Yes," she answers; "it is the Bible that Dan gave you." "Read what is on the first page." She reads the inscription: "From Dan to his dearest friend and brother, Joshua. With undying love and confidence." "You know the love that existed between Dan and me, Minnie?" "I know. It is perfect. Why do you say existed? Surely it exists!" "I don't know; I'm afraid to think. Your words are in some sort comforting to me; for they prove you have acted in ignorance, and that you have not wilfully wronged me." She looks at him imploringly. "You will understand presently," he says. He takes Ellen's lock of hair, and presses it to his lips, and kisses Ellen's portrait also. The hot blood flushes into Minnie's face, then suddenly deserts it, and she clasps her hands convulsively. She is but woman, after all. Yet she controls her agitation sufficiently to ask in an unsteady voice,-- "Is it necessary to speak further of this, Joshua?" "It is more than necessary," he replies; "it is imperative. My duty and my honor demand it." She bows her head; he pauses a while, and when he speaks again, it is in a softer tone. "Minnie, do you know that Dan loved you?" "Loved me!"