"It is easy of explanation. I was tired of London life--disillusioned, if you will. You prophesied it, you may remember; and hearing from my old schoolfellow, Mary Summers, that she was hard pressed for help in her work, took my passage, and here I am." "So I see," he replied gravely. "And from what I have heard lately, I heartily wish that you were anywhere else." "But, surely, if there be danger--and I suppose you mean that--I have no more right to be shielded than another." "Mrs. Summers, whom I deeply respect, has followed her husband in the path of a plain duty. But why _you_, without ties or adequate reason, should have volunteered for this forlorn hope, I cannot comprehend. It is the personal sacrifice which has a charm for some women, I suppose," he went on. "And for some men," she retorted, "else why should _you_ be here, wounded almost to the death in a quarrel in which you had no share, and which I believe in my heart you consider unjust. When will men come to understand that women differ widely among themselves, and are attracted, even as they are, by novelty and adventure?" "Mine is only a man's answer, and scarcely logical either, but it is the best I have. I came to New Zealand because I could not live in England. Like you, I had lost a world of hope, trust, and fond illusion. This war was commenced without my consent or support, but finding myself between two camps, I chose the British one." "It was very natural," she said with a sigh. "But tell me of yourself. How were you wounded, and why did you not remain at the camp?" "I should have remained there altogether," he said, with a flickering smile, "had it not been for Erena and her two cousins. We met with a reverse at the Gate Pah, and every man that fell near me was tomahawked within two minutes. These girls rushed in through a hail of bullets and dragged me into the high fern, where I lay safely until some of the Ngapuhi joined them. They carried me to a cave only known to the tohunga and a few individuals of the tribe." "And after that?" "I found next morning that the bleeding had been stopped and the wound bandaged. Since then I have been terribly weak, but am now recovering slowly, _very_ slowly. To-day I feel better than I have done for some time past. I shall pick up as soon as we reach the shore." "May God grant it," she replied. "If it was through any act of mine that you quitted home and friends, I should feel that your blood was on my head. When I think of your renunciation, I cannot help doubting whether any woman is worth the sacrifice. And now we must say farewell. You are to leave at dawn, I hear; so if we are doomed never to meet again, think kindly of Hypatia Tollemache, and believe that you have her best wishes, her prayers." As she spoke she held out her hand, which he clasped in his; so thin and wasted was it that the tears rose to her eyes. He pressed his lips passionately to it, and relinquished the slender fingers with a sigh.