his. And remember that I loved him.

"It is easy to forgive," I said, sadly. "For your sake, Eustace, I will
try to forget."

I raised him gently as I spoke. He kissed my hands with the air of a
man who was too humble to venture on any more familiar expression of his
gratitude than that. The sense of embarrassment between us as we slowly
walked on again was so unendurable that I actually cast about in my
mind for a subject of conversation, as if I had been in the company of a
stranger! In mercy to _him_, I asked him to tell me about the yacht.

He seized on the subject as a drowning man seizes on the hand that
rescues him.

On that one poor little topic of the yacht he talked, talked, talked,
as if his life depended upon his not being silent for an instant on
the rest of the way back. To me it was dreadful to hear him. I could
estimate what he was suffering by the violence which he--ordinarily a
silent and thoughtful man--was now doing to his true nature, and to
the prejudices and habits of his life. With the greatest difficulty I
preserved my self-control until we reached the door of our lodgings.
There I was obliged to plead fatigue, and ask him to let me rest for a
little while in the solitude of my own room.

"Shall we sail to-morrow?" he called after me suddenly, as I ascended
the stairs.

Sail with him to the Mediterranean the next day? Pass weeks and weeks
absolutely alone with him, in the narrow limits of a vessel, with his
horrible secret parting us in sympathy further and further from each
other day by day? I shuddered at the thought of it.

"To-morrow is rather a short notice," I said. "Will you give me a little
longer time to prepare for the voyage?"

"Oh yes--take any time you like," he answered, not (as I thought) very
willingly. "While you are resting--there are still one or two little
things to be settled--I think I will go back to the yacht. Is there
anything I can do for you, Valeria, before I go?"

"Nothing--thank you, Eustace."

He hastened away to the harbor. Was he afraid of his own thoughts, if he
were left by himself in the house. Was the company of the sailing-master
and the steward better than no company at all?

It was useless to ask. What did I know about him or his thoughts? I
locked myself into my room.

CHAPTER V. THE LANDLADY'S DISCOVERY.

I SAT down, and tried to compose my spirits. Now or never was the time
to decide what it was my duty to my husband and my duty to m