rd!"

"Oh Marian, Marian!" I exclaimed bitterly, wounded by these unkind
words. "What have I done to forfeit your confidence? Have I not been
faithful and true to you from the first hour of our acquaintance till
now? You know that I am the best friend you have, and one who would
die to serve you. Yet these several days past you have behaved to me
as if you had plans which you wished to keep from me. Do you doubt of
my being ready to do anything you should bid me, even if it were to go
to Moorshedabad and enlist with Surajah Dowlah himself? Why are we not
to be open with each other? You know I love you; I have told you so
often enough before we ever came out to this dreadful land; and I
think I have shown myself ready to prove it as well. Even now I have
come here simply to provide for your safety. In a few days the
unfavourable monsoon will set in, after which no ship can leave the
coast, but this week there is a vessel sailing for Madras, on which I
am able to secure a passage for you, and for Mr. Rising as well, if he
will go. I have come to offer you this opportunity, and entreat you to
accept of it. And if there are any who would persuade you to remain,
depend upon it, they are your enemies and not your friends."

She heard me out, sitting quite still and showing no sign of
impatience. But when I had finished she said--

"I thank you, Athelstane, for your kind intentions, and for your
goodness in the past, of which I do not need to be reminded. As for
what you say about your love for me, since you have spoken so plainly,
I must needs tell you that I am not able to return it. I have tried,
both on the voyage hither and since; and I have failed. Your loving
friend I am, and hope to remain always, no matter what may happen to
part us for a time. Nevertheless, I don't share your fears of what
the Moors may do against us, and I will not leave Calcutta, though I
thank you for your offers."

She seemed as if about to say more, but stopped abruptly. Of the deep
distress which I felt to hear her declare that my love for her was
hopeless, I say nothing, for what can be said? There are some to whom
that great prize, the chief that life affords, namely the love of the
woman they have chosen, is granted, but to most men, I suppose, it is
denied; and I but shared the common lot. These things are the most
important in our lives, they leave bruises whose marks are never quite
effaced; yet all passes secretly; the business of li