Slowly the girl shook her head. She still rested in his embrace, her dark eyes fixed on his. “No,” she murmured. “No! I cannot.” Dismay swept over Caruth. “But----” he began. Gently she laid her fingers on his lips. “If it could be,” she whispered--“if it could be, I would count the world well lost. But it cannot be. Don’t you understand, dear? I am vowed to help the people, the poor, down-trodden people, who cannot help themselves--who can only suffer. I cannot desert them. I am sworn to them by vows as holy as those of any nun. Success might have won release, but I have failed.” Caruth straightened himself indignantly. “Failed nothing!” he cried. “You’ve not failed. There is no failure where there is no chance of success. The gold must have been gone before you ever saw New York--before you ever heard of the matter at all. You’ve done more than any one else could have done, for you’ve found the ship and explored her. It isn’t your fault that somebody was before you.” Marie freed herself gently. “It isn’t a question of fault,” she answered sadly. “It is a question of success, and I have not succeeded. But, even so, I fear it really is my fault. It would not be if you were right--if the gold had indeed been taken when you say. But I don’t think it was so taken. I believe it was there when we left New York, even when we arrived at Burndo. I feel that it was snatched away under my very eyes. It was---- Good Heavens! What’s the matter?” For Caruth, suddenly weak, had dropped into a chair. For the first time he had recalled the words of the interpreter in the village. “Great Scott!” he cried, “you are right. Why didn’t I think? Why didn’t I guess? Fool, dolt, ass, that I am! I know who got the gold.” “Who?” Marie leaned forward with parted lips. “The interpreter in the village. I told you something of him, but I didn’t tell you enough. I didn’t realize what it meant. I was a fool. He talked of something--some gold mine, he said--that he needed help to secure. He offered me a share. Then Wilkins came up and he ran. By Heavens! I see it all now. He knew Wilkins! He ran away to avoid explaining. And I thought he was crazy! Oh, what an incredible idiot I was!” “It was fated!” “Fated nothing! It was plain idiocy. Oh, I see it all now! Wilkins and he arranged it all. It’s they that have the gold.” “They and that girl.” Caruth’s face clouded. “Do you think so?” he questioned “She----” “Oh, I know all you would say. She is the Professor’s daughter and all that; but she has fled with Wilkins all the same. Trust a woman to know. She has gone away with him willingly.” “And the Professor?” The girl’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, the poor old man!” she cried. “The poor old man! So courteous, so sweet, so kindly. I never knew my father--he died when I was an infant--but I like to think that if he had lived he would have been like the Professor.” “Then you don’t think he has gone with his daughter?”