’You were generous.  Yes, you did all you could; for that I will be grateful to you all my life.’

’And I love you—­I love you!  I want love, not gratitude, Chris—­your love.’

’You must forget me!

He approached her more closely, and his voice had lost its pleading tone.

‘On the night of the arrest,’ he said, ’you told me you had deceived all—­lied to all; did you lie to me?’

He paused for a reply, but she did not speak, and he continued fiercely: 

’Did you lie to me when you said you loved me?  Was that a lie?  Was it a trap?’

‘It does not matter now, Harry; all is over, all.’

‘An’ you did lie to me.  You lied because you thought I’d give your father up if my love was not returned.  My God! you thought I took advantage of—­’

‘No, no, no!’ she cried, ’not that.  I thought no ill of you, I think none.  Think what you will of me.’

’But I was fooled—­cruelly, bitterly fooled.  You needn’t have done it, Chris. I’d rather have died than have added to your sufferings.  Your trick wasn’t necessary.  I cared more for you than you’ll ever know.’

Her hands trembled at her sides and her lips moved, but her eyes remained steadfast.

‘I know your good heart, Harry,’ she said in a voice almost harsh from the restraint put upon her.  ’I will bless you and pray for you while I live, but I can never be your wife.  You are mad to think of me.  Some day you will be glad I refused to listen to you, and grateful to me for what I have done.’

‘Grateful!’ he cried.  ’To be grateful I must learn to hate you.  I’ll go an’ learn that lesson.’

He turned from her and strode towards the gate, but there he paused with his arm upon the bar, and presently he moved back to her side.

‘I can’t go like that, dear,’ he said, seizing her hand again, ’nothing on earth can ever make me anything but your lover, an’ nothing can make me believe you lied when you said you loved me.  Your kisses were not lies.  Speak to me—­say that you did love me a little!’

‘Good-bye, Harry,’ she said in the same constrained tone.

‘For God’s sake be fair to me, Chris.’

’I am fair to you.  Go; learn to love someone who will bring you happiness.  Good-bye.’

‘There is one woman who could bring me happiness, an’ she stabs me to the heart.  I won’t give you up, I won’t forget, I won’t say good-bye.  When this misery’s gone from you, you will be your old self again, an’ we’ll be happy together.’

‘Do not think that, Harry; you must put me out of your heart.’

‘Never—­never while I live!’

He looked into her strong pale face for a moment, and lifting her yielding hand to his lips kissed it.

‘Good-night,’ he said gently.  ‘I’ll come again.’

‘Good-bye, Harry,’ she whispered.

He hastened away, carrying his trouble into the sleeping bush.  She stood for a few moments after he had gone, erect, with her hands pressed over her eyes, then walked towards the house with firm steps; but at the verandah uncontrollable sobs were breaking in her throat; she turned and fled into the plantation, and lying amongst the long grass wept unreservedly.