They stopped beside the rock, and talked before they entered. It was then the time when scandal came to whisper of a young maid’s condition. That subject was on their lips. “It’s done, and there’s an end of it,” said Milord in a heat. “I tell you I’ve married her, Mr Mark Dalston.” “Why do you call me by that name?” asked the Gouverneur. He was very quiet and smiling; and he showed his white teeth always. “Because it’s your real one, isn’t it?” said Milord. “And because I want to convince you that mine isn’t the only secret here that might lead to disturbances if revealed. I stand to take the consequences of _my_ deeds, Mr Dalston, whatever you may do.” “Have you, then,” said the Gouverneur, “written to confess to your father?” “No, but I’m going to,” answered Milord. “It can’t be delayed much longer. Only I’ll do it in my own time and way, and stand no dictating from anybody.” Then he seemed to soften a little. “Hang it, Delane!” he said. “I’m sorry if you are sweet on the girl yourself. But one could never tell from your manner--you’re such a deep chap.” “Am I?” said the Gouverneur, and he laughed. “But you have beaten us all in depth, Skene. Well, as you remark, the thing’s done, and there’s no more to be said about it for the moment. Now show me the way into this wonderful cave you’ve discovered.” They passed in, one after the other, Milord going first--and he never came out again. Only, presently, there jumped from the opening on to the grass a man very white but smiling still, who flicked the dust from his clothes, and sat down on a rock, looking into the curve of the fall as if his eyes were needles to pierce it. And suddenly he came to his feet. “My God, Lucie!” he said to the water, “how I love you! My God, how I love you!” and with that he turned and went away. And presently I too went down into the cave. He had shot him with a pistol from the back. He lay on his face, and his head was like a trampled bush. Near the body, flung from it in its fall, was a little tin case such as they make for sandwiches; and in it I found, when I could force the nerve to look, the certificate of Milord’s marriage with Miss Lucie. I put it back; I touched nothing more; like a murderer myself I stole away, and left everything as I had found it. From that day to this the cave shall have held its secret undiscovered. There still the body must be lying as when it fell never to stir again. You know the rest.