"Indeed, she may be. I hope rather that poor John Lee is safe. He haunted me to-day. It seemed so possible that he might have chosen this place. Why, father, father! what has happened? Forgive me; I should not have named him."
She stopped, for Malherb suddenly stood still and stared up into the sky. The gladness fell away from his face like sunlight suddenly shadowed. He struck one fist thrice into his open palm, then dropped his hands again.
"Forgive me—I have hurt you cruelly," cried the girl. "I had thought you quite pardoned John Lee."
"Yes," he said gently; "I had pardoned him and I had forgot him too. Poor fool of one thought that I am! He knew—he knew this secret place and the wealth stored in it! 'Tis possible—nay, certain—that he rifled all. Who would blame him? 'Twas he whom you saw from far off in the ruins."
"Never! Had he found the amphora—— Is he not a Malherb himself?"
"Hold your peace," her father answered, in a voice grown harsh again. "That man has all, and who shall blame him? He may well hold it his dead father's portion. I, that thought I had awakened, only dreamed. Things are as they were."
"Oh, if I could understand! If I could help you in this suffering that you hide from us!"
"It is impossible. A dream, I say. Things are as they were."
He turned to her and she heard his voice sink down into a dreary lifeless monotone.
"The ship has passed by; but no man has seen the struggling wretch in the water or heard him shout."