He could not understand it. She had left him in perfect friendliness last night. There was no hint of misunderstanding—estrangement. Why had she changed? What was causing her to stand so aloof from him? Was it the doing of that precious rascally pair? Was it anything he himself had done or said? Was it, perhaps, the way he had talked about the mining venture? He did not think so. He knew that had pained her—that could not be helped; but it had not offended her. She had left him, well, in such a manner that he had felt confident of winning her as a lover....

No, it wasn’t that—but what was it? Some deep and cunning game of those rogues. Something subtle and devilish emanating from the brain of that master villain Neuburg—that was the only explanation. But what it was he could not find out. And the fact that there was so little time to find out, win back her confidence—that and the real ardor he felt for her, robbed his wits of their habitual steadiness, made them unstable, in a crisis.

And the crisis came. It came with an unfair abruptness. It could not be aught else, for Heloise’s wits were also in something of a whirl.[Pg 74] She was dreading the moment of confronting Clement, just as she was determined that she would do so. Her mind had been an affair of veering unstability all day. Now she believed him to be underhand, now she disbelieved. Now she hated him, now she thought he could do nothing dishonorable. Now she made up her mind to go to him, now she held back. She was a mass of hesitations and decisions; she was hot, and she was cold.

[Pg 74]

She made up her mind only a few minutes before the dressing-bugle sounded. Clement had tramped past her in dark loneliness, had turned and passed round the end of the deck. She felt, “I must do it now or never.” With an indefinite gesture, more than half an appeal for support, to her companion, she rose and went after him.

She expected to see him on the other side of the deck, and she would call him and hand him his letter.... But when she reached the end of the deck she actually ran into him. He had swung round on his heel, returned in his tracks.... As a matter of fact, he had made up his mind to talk to her, to demand an explanation from her.

They met. It was a shock. They stared at each other a little breathless. Then, “This is your letter,” said Heloise.

Clement took it, looked at it, frowned.

“Yes, it is,” he said. “But how on earth....” Heloise wasn’t going to 

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