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She looked at him steadfastly for a moment, and then murmured: “You are thinking of your friend, Mr. Munson.”

“That would be quite natural. How many more can you think of?”

“You are indeed unrelenting,” she faltered, tears coming into her eyes; “but I cannot forget that but for you I should now be out there”–and she indicated the sea by a gesture, then covered her face with her hands, and shuddered.

“Do not feel under obligations. I should have been compelled to do as much for any human being. You seem to forget that I stood an even chance of being out there with you, and that there was no more need of the risk than there was that my best friend’s life should be blight–“

“You–you out there?” she cried, springing toward him and pointing to the sea.

“Certainly. You cannot suppose that having once found you, I could come ashore without you. As it was, my strength was rapidly giving way, and were it not for the rope–“

“Oh, forgive me,” she cried passionately, seizing his hand in spite of him. “It never entered my mind that you could drown. I somehow felt that nothing could harm you. I was reckless–I didn’t know what I was doing–I don’t understand myself any more. Please–please forgive me, or I shall not sleep to-night.”

“Certainly,” he said lightly, “if you will not refer to our little episode again.”

“Please don’t speak in that way,” she sighed, turning away.

“I have complied with your request.”

“I suppose I must be content,” she resumed sadly. Then turning her head slowly toward him she added hesitatingly: “Will you forgive me for–for treating your friend–“

“No,” he replied, with such stern emphasis that she shrank from him and trembled.

“You are indeed heartless,” she faltered, as she turned to leave him.

“Miss Van Tyne,” he said indignantly, “twice you have charged me with being heartless. Your voice and manner indicate that I would be unnatural and unworthy of respect were I what you charge. In the name of all that’s rational what does this word ‘heartless’ mean to you? Where was your heart when you sent my friend away so wretched and humbled that he is virtually seeking the death from which you are so glad to escape?”

“I did not love him,” she protested faintly.

He laughed bitterly, and continued, “Love! That’s a word which I believe has no meaning for you at all, but it had for him. You are a remarkably clever woman, Miss Van Tyne. You have brains in abundance. See, I do you justice. What is more, you are beautiful and can be so fascinating that a man who believed in you might easily worship you. You made him believe in you. You tried to beguile me into a condition that with my nature would be ruin indeed. You never had the baby plea of a silly, shallow woman. I took pains to find that out the first evening we met. In your art of beguiling an honest, trusting man you were as perfect as you were remorseless, and you understood exactly what you were doing.”

For a time she seemed overwhelmed by his lava-like torrent of words, and stood with bowed head and shrinking, trembling form; but when he ceased she turned to him and said bitterly and emphatically:

“I did NOT understand what I was doing, nor would my brain have taught me were I all intellect like yourself. I half wish you had left me to drown,” and with a slight, despairing gesture she turned away and did not look back.

Ackland’s face lighted up with a sudden flash of intelligence and deep feeling. He started to recall her, hesitated, and watched her earnestly until she disappeared; then looking out on the scowling ocean, he took off his hat and exclaimed in a deep, low tone:

“By all that’s divine, can this be? Is it possible that through the suffering of her own awakening heart she is learning to know the pain she has given to others? Should this be true, the affair is taking an entirely new aspect, and Munson will be avenged as neither of us ever dreamed would be possible.”