It was final, and Herne knew it; yet his heart cried out within him for the friend he had lost. Suddenly he found he could not bear it.
"Bobby! Bobby!" he burst forth impulsively. "Stop, man, stop and think! There must be some other way. You can't—you shan't—go back!"
He hardly knew what he said, so great was his distress. The gulf was widening, widening, and he was powerless. He knew that it could never be bridged again.
"It's too big a forfeit," he urged very earnestly. "You can't do it. I won't suffer it. For Betty's sake—Bobby, come back!"
And then, for the last time, he heard his friend's voice across the ever-widening gulf.
"For Betty's sake, old chap, I am a dead man. Remember that! It's you who must go back to her. Marry her, love her, make her—forget!"
For an instant those mummy hands rested upon him, held him, caressed him; it was almost as if they blessed him. For an instant the veil was lifted; they were comrades together. Then it fell....
There came a quiet movement, the sound of departing feet.
Herne turned and blindly searched the darkness. Across the gulf he cried to his friend to return to him.
"Bobby, come back, lad, come back! We'll find some other way."