rkness. I had not
gone a hundred yards before my ears were caught by a rustling on my
left. Had I put up some animal? I came to a pause, and then there was a
swift rush, and a man's figure broke through the undergrowth and
disappeared across the slope of the hill. It was near dark, but I
thought in that instant I recognised it as the figure of the little
lawyer's clerk.

When I reached the cavern I found no sign of any one, and I was
wondering what could have become of my companions when I heard a voice
calling low through the gloaming:

"Dr. Phillimore!"

It was Alix. I sprang to her side and took her hands. Then I learnt
that Legrand had decided, as a counsel of prudence, to occupy the
second cavern on the northern slope, which he considered more private
than that which we had found first.

"And you came back to warn me?" I asked in a low voice.

"No; I waited," said she as low. "I was afraid, although you told
me.... Ah, but you have never told me wrong yet! I believe you
implicitly."

"Princess," I said with emotion.

"No, no," she whispered. "Not any more ... never any more."

"Alix," I whispered low, and I held her closer. She gave a little cry.

"What is it?" I asked anxiously.

For answer her head lay quiet on my shoulder, and the stars looked down
upon a pale sweet face. She had fainted. Now the hand which clasped her
arm felt warm and wet, and I shifted it hastily and bent down to her.
It was blood. She was wounded. Tenderly I bound my handkerchief about
the arm and waited in distress for her to revive. If we had only some
of the mutineers' brandy! But presently she opened her eyes.

"Dearest ... dearest," she murmured faintly.

"You are wounded, darling," I said. "Oh, why did you not tell me?"

"It was the first shot," she said in a drowsy voice. "When--when I had
my arm about you."

I kissed that fair white arm, and then for the first time I kissed her
lips.

We reached Legrand's cave after Alix had rested, and I related the
tragedy that had passed under my eyes on the beach below. Legrand
listened silently, and then:

"He was a black scoundrel. He died as he should," he said shortly, and
said no more.

Wearied with our exertions, and exhausted by the anxieties of the day,
we gradually sank to sleep, and as I passed off Alix's hand lay in
mine. She slept sweetly, for all the profound miseries of those past
days.

I awoke to the sound of a bird that twittered in the bushes, and,
emer