self-contained, too ambitious to be capable of more than a passing fancy, had shown her something in his soul which she knew to be Divine.  He was not, it seemed, so aloof as she had imagined him to be.  The friendship between himself and Tommy was not the one-sided affair that she and a good many others had always believed it.  He cared for Tommy, cared very deeply.  Somehow that fact made a vast difference to her, such a difference as seemed to reach to the very centre of her being.  She felt as if she had underrated something great.

The rush of the rain on the roof of the verandah seemed to make coherent thought impossible.  She gazed at the meal before her and wondered if she could bring herself to partake of it.  Peter had put everything ready to her hand, and in justice to him she felt as if she ought to make the attempt.  But a leaden weariness was upon her.  She felt more inclined to sink back in her chair and sleep.

There came a sound behind her, and she was aware of someone entering.  She fancied it was Peter returned to mark her progress, and stretched her hand to the coffee-urn.  But ere she touched it she knew that she was mistaken.  She turned and saw Monck.

By the grey light of the morning his face startled her.  She had never seen it look so haggard.  But out of it the dark eyes shone, alert and indomitable, albeit she suspected that they had not slept for many hours.

He made her a brief bow.  “May I join you?” he said.

His manner was formal, but she could not stand on her dignity with him at that moment.  Impulsively, almost involuntarily it seemed to her later, she rose, offering him both her hands.  “Captain Monck,” she said, “you are—­splendid!”

Words and action were alike wholly spontaneous.  They were also wholly unexpected.  She saw a strange look flash across his face.  Just for a second he hesitated.  Then he took her hands and held them fast.

“Ah—­Stella!” he said.

With the name his eyes kindled.  His weariness vanished as darkness vanishes before the glare of electricity.  He drew her suddenly and swiftly to him.

For a few throbbing seconds Stella was so utterly amazed that she made no resistance.  He astounded her at every turn, this man.  And yet in some strange and vital fashion her moods responded to his.  He was not beyond comprehension or even sympathy.  But as she found his dark face close to hers and felt his eyes scorch her like a flame, expediency rather than dismay urged her to action.  There was something so sublimely natural about him at that moment that she could not feel afraid.

She drew back from him gasping.  “Oh please—­please!” she said.  “Captain Monck, let me go!”

He held her still, though he drew her no closer.  “Must I?” he said.  And in a lower voice, “Have you forgotten how once in this very room you told me—­that I had come to you—­too late?  And—­now!”

The last words seemed to vibrate through and through her.  She quivered from head to foot.  She could not meet the passion in his eyes, but desperately she strove to cope with it ere it mounted beyond her control.