he was so powerless to
resist; in incoherent whispers he told her he would break his chains and
return to her, free in the years to come to devote his life to the woman
he loved. He called her the dearest names, and begged her not to forget
him. But she, with a perception greater than his own, swept away these
despairing protestations with disdain. The daughter of one king, the
sister of another, could she not meet force by force? These fierce
intruders, with their rough voices and drawn pistols, who were they, to
threaten a princess of the royal blood and carry away her lover before
her eyes? If they were strong, she was stronger; and what ship cannon,
she asked, however murderous or far-ranging, could penetrate those
mountain recesses whither she would carry him before the morning? Ah,
she said, it was for him to choose between her and them; between Britain
and the island; between love and the service of the white Queen beyond
the seas.

"I have chosen," he said.

Her eyes flashed as she freed herself from his arms.

"I am hateful in my own sight for having loved you," she said.

"Will you not even wish me well, Tehea?" he asked.

"No," she cried, "I hope you will die!" He turned away.

"_Siati!_" she cried after him in agony.

He turned back to her, downcast and silent.

"Remember," she said with sweet relenting, "that wherever thou goest,
however many the years that may divide us, however wide the waters or
the land, I shall be here waiting for thee, here in this house of our
happiness; and if I die before thou comest here thou wilt find my
grave."

"Tehea," he said, "as God sees me, some day I shall return!"

She took his hands and looked up into his face with such poignant
longing and tenderness, that Jack's comrades, already uncomfortable
enough, were quite overborne by the scene. Tough old Hatch snuffled
audibly, and Brady could hardly speak.

"Come, come, lad," he cried huskily, "you mustn't keep us longer!"

Jack unclasped the girl's hands and suffered himself to be led away by
his comrades. Stumbling and falling against one another in the dark,
they made shift to find the uncertain path, Winterslea, in the lead,
coo-eeing like a bushfellow for them to follow. Little by little they
gained the sleeping village, and pressed on to the beach beyond, where
their boat was already afloat on the incoming tide. They took their
places without a word and pulled out in the direction of the ship. In
the pas