Monk’s horse was nosing in the bucket under the tap of the tank, and Harry stooped and turned the tap.  The water ran swiftly, filling the bucket in a few seconds.  While the horse drank the sergeant gave whispered orders to Casey; and Christina, with steadfast eyes and locked fingers, sat waiting for Harry to speak the dreaded words, wondering at his silence.  Monk moved round the house, peering into all the corners, and came to the tank again.  It stood on a small platform raised on four uprights, and all was open underneath.  The sergeant examined it.  He climbed to the top, removed the lid and, striking a light, looked in.  The tank was full of water.

‘I am going to hunt over the quarries,’ said the trooper in a low voice, as he mounted.  ’Donovan and Keel are taking a run in the paddock, Casey will try the houses about here.  You might keep your eyes open, Hardy.  Perhaps that boy was mistaken, but we mustn’t miss a chance.’

Harry nodded, scarcely comprehending what the man said, and Monk rode off leaving the two alone.  For a minute or more they continued in the same position; then Harry stole to Chris, and kneeling in the shadow by her side took her hand firmly in his.

‘He is there,’ he whispered.

‘What are you going to do?’ she added in a strange voice.

‘Why don’t you get him away?’

‘Away?’ she murmured vaguely.

‘Yes, yes; I will help you.’  His left arm clasped her closely, and his breath was on her cheek.

She turned her face towards him, and there was a new hope in it, another spirit in her glorious eyes.

‘You are not going to give him up.’

‘I can’t—­I can’t do it!’

‘Thank God!’ she murmured, and there was some thing more than relief for her father’s sake in her tone.  He had made a revelation that filled her with a passion of joy which for a moment drove out the fears and anxieties that had possessed her heart.

‘I love you—­I love you, dear,’ he continued in a voice ardent, caressing; ‘an’ I can’t bear to see you suffer.’

She let her face sink to his and kissed him on the mouth, and he clasped her to his breast and held her, repeating again and again expressions of his devotion that love made eloquent.  Her pale face turned to him seemed luminous with the ecstacy of the moment.  For a brief sweet minute she abandoned herself to that ecstacy and forgot everything beside.

‘I have always loved you, my darling! my darling!’ she whispered—­’ always.  That night at the gate I thought you cared and I was happy, but afterwards I was afraid.  I thought you might hate me for his sake, and I was wretched.’

’I did try to, Chris—­I tried to hate you.  I was a fool.  I couldn’t do anything but love in spite of myself, an’ now I’ll help you, dear.’

‘No, no, no, Harry; no—­you must not!’ She put him from her with her strong arms.  ’It is wrong.  I cannot let you.  It is right that I should fight for him—­he is my father.  He has been a good father to me, and I have loved him and believed in him.  It is my duty to fight for him, but you must not, my dear love.  In you it would be a wrong, a crime.’