"But not this shivering, cowardly cur--a man, a true blameless man, whom it will take years to make. Now, then, once more, will you help me, and keep my secret?" Louise was silent for a few moments. "Well, never mind, you must keep my secret, for after I am gone if you said you had seen me, people would tell you that you were mad." "I will help you, Harry, and keep your secret, dear--even," she added to herself, "if it breaks my heart." "That's right. We've wasted too much time in talking as it is, and--" "But, Harry--Madelaine--she loves you." He wrested himself from her violently, and stood with his hands pressed to his head. A few moments before he had been firm and determined, but the agonised thought of Madelaine and of giving her up for ever had ended the fictitious strength which had enabled him to go so far. It was the result of his long agony shut up in that cave; and though he struggled hard he could do no more, but completely unnerved, trembling violently, and glancing wildly from time to time at the door and window, he sank at his sister's feet and clutched her knees. "Harry, Harry!" she whispered--she, the stronger now--"for Heaven's sake don't give way like that." "It's all over now. I'm dead beat; I can do no more." "Then let me go to father; let me fetch him from Van Heldre's." "Yes," he moaned; "and while you are gone I'll go down to the end of the point and jump in. This time I shall be too weak to swim." "Harry, don't talk like that!" she cried, embracing him, as she saw with horror the pitiable, trembling state in which he was. "I can't help it," he whispered as he clung to her now like a frightened child, and looked wildly at the door. "You don't know what I've suffered, buried alive in that cave, and expecting the sea to come in and drown me. It has been one long horror." "But, Harry, dear, you are safe now." "Safe?" he groaned; "yes, to be taken by the first policeman I meet, and locked up in gaol." "But, Harry!" she cried, his agitation growing contagious, "I have promised. I will help you now. I'll keep it a secret, if you think it best, dear. Harry, for Heaven's sake be a man." "It's all over now," he groaned, "so better end it all. I wish I was dead. I wish I was dead." "But, Harry, dear," she whispered, trembling now as much as he, "tell me what to do." "I can't now," he said; "I'm too weak and broken. All this has been so maddening that I'm like some poor wretch half killed by drink. It's too late now." "No, no, Harry, dear. It shall be our secret then. Up, and be a man, my brave, true brother, and you shall go and redeem yourself. Yes, I'll suffer it all hopefully, for the future shall make amends, dear. You shall go across to France, and I will study my father's comfort, and pray nightly for you." "Too late," he moaned--"too late!" She looked at him wildly. The long strain upon his nerves had been too great, and he was white as a sheet, and shaking violently.