Tears welled in Dorothy’s eyes. “To-day,” she murmured, brokenly, “I made a bargain. I saw myself trapped, driven into marriage with a man whom I loathed--oh, God only knows how I had come to loathe him! Anything was better than he--anything! So I made my offer. I would be a loyal wife to any man who would save me from Captain Forbes. You answered.” “I answered.” “You are a much smaller man than Captain Forbes. No one would have thought you a match for him, least of all himself. He meant to kill you. There was murder in his eye. You must have seen it. Yet you faced him. Why did you do it?” Howard shrugged his shoulders. “You make too much of the affair,” he said, lightly. “The man was strong, but he was past his first youth and moved slowly. After the first two minutes I had no fear of the result. But you ask me why I came forward. What else could any gentleman do--and, in spite of my trial and conviction, I trust I am still a gentleman. I came forward because I had to.” “Then you did not fight for the poor prize I offered?” Howard smiled. “Assuredly not,” he answered. “Why, you yourself saw that I was ready to fight again a moment later to avoid taking it!” “But you took it.” “Yes--I took it.” “And now I ask you to give it up again. I--I--Mr. Howard, I have heard of you for two years. You have been painted very black in my eyes. I have known you two weeks, and they have reversed the picture. I should not have looked for generosity in the man I once thought you to be, but I beg it from the man I have found you to be. I am your wife. I have promised before God to be loyal, loving, and obedient to you. I made that promise with my eyes open, and if you ask it I shall try to keep it. I am not of those who take their marriage vows lightly. I am your wife and I am wholly at your mercy. But--but--you do not love me nor I you. We are mere acquaintances. Do not--oh, it is hard for me to say this. Have pity on me. Hold me, not as your wife, as I must hold myself, but as only a poor girl in distress, and--see, I kneel to you----” Howard caught her hands and drew her to her feet again. “Poor little girl,” he murmured gently. “So that is what is troubling you! Do not fear. You are my wife--yes. But it is a tie that can easily be sundered when once we get back to dry land. A marriage like this is no marriage without the after-consent of the parties. Any court in the land would dissolve it--or, more likely, declare it null and void from the beginning. Do not fear. You are quite safe with me.” Dorothy’s breath came fast, but she did not speak. She tottered and put her hand out for support. Howard guided her to a chair. “Sit quietly for a moment,” he ordered gently. “I must see Jackson about something, but I will soon be back and help you to your state-room. You must be worn out.”