"What is the matter?" I cried, my joy turned to fear. Nick had become a Bharbazonian.
"I must have time to think," he said coldly.
"Think?" I cried. "What is there to think about? Surely you have not changed your mind?"
"No, I have not changed my mind. I have not fully made it up. You took me off my feet a moment ago. I must consider this from all sides. I have a duty to perform to my country and to my church. Solonika has committed a great sacrilege for which she merits death."
"Nevertheless, Nick, you cannot stand still and see her die. You love her, do you not?"
"Yes," he said slowly, "and so do you."
I felt it coming and stood still, awaiting the blow.
"I saw her kiss you as she went up the stair," he said.
Jealousy, impure, merciless jealousy had claimed its own. Nick had guessed the import of Solonika's last act and knew that she loved me. So strange is the human heart that in the midst of the pure and the noble it can still harbour the most sordid of feelings. I had never dreamed this of Nicholas.
Should I lie to him and permit him to learn the truth after we were far out to sea? I must save her, no matter what the cost. But, try as I would to frame my reply at variance with the truth, I could not.