“But likings mustn’t interfere with duty,” he went on, smiling. “What claim have you at my hands?”
“Decent burial, I suppose,” I answered.
He got up and paced the room for a moment or two. I waited with some anxiety, for life is worth something to a young man, even when things look blackest, and I never was a hero.
“I make you this offer,” he said at last. “Your boat lies there, ready. Get into her and go, otherwise—”
“I see,” said I. “And you will marry her?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Against her will?”
He looked at me with something like pity.
“Who can tell what a woman’s will will be in a week? In less than that she will marry me cheerfully. I hope you may grieve as short a time as she will.”
In my inmost heart I knew it was true. I had staked everything, not for a woman’s love, but for the whim of a girl! For a moment it was too hard for me, and I bowed my head on the table by me and hid my face.