"Hush, hush! you must never think of that again; it could not have been. You are the mother of my boy, and I am not afraid for you."
"But, Cuthbert, you don't know all; you don't know how he fascinated me. I seemed to have no will at all when he was talking to me. When he looked into my eyes I had to do his bidding. I was very wicked and weak to listen to him; but try how I would to escape I could not get away."
"He will fascinate no more women; he is safely under lock and key by this time. Now you must go to bed, and try to sleep, or you will be seriously ill after all this excitement. And think what that will mean for me."
She stooped and kissed his forehead, and then, struggling with her tears, departed to her room. Ellison went out into the cool veranda. The sun was just rising above the horizon, and already the Kanaka cook was bustling in and out of his kitchen preparing breakfast for the hands as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Ellison descended the steps and went across to the store. With a feeling of intense awe he opened the door and passed in. Removing the blanket that covered the figure lying so stiff and cold upon the floor, he stood and looked down at the face he had grown to love so well. Poor Murkard, and yet rather happy, happy Murkard in his last great act of self-sacrifice. As he looked down at him his own sin rose before him in all its shame. Then by the dead body of his friend, who had given his life for him, he registered a solemn vow that never again would he yield to temptation. He had suffered bitterly for this one mistake, and now the whole future should be spent in endeavouring to make amends for it. He re-drew the blanket and left the store.
Shortly after breakfast a hand came to tell him that a police-officer desired to see him. He went out and asked the slim young official his business.
"I have been sent across, Mr. Ellison, to see you regarding the prisoner we removed from here last night on a charge of murder."
"Well, what about him?"
"He is dead—drowned."
"Drowned!" cried Ellison. "What do you mean? When was he drowned?"
"Crossing the straits last night. We'd got him halfway across; my mate pulling, the prisoner sitting amidships, the doctor and myself astern. Suddenly he gave a yell, jumped up, and threw himself overboard before we could stop him. There and then he sank, for his hands were handcuffed behind him, you see; and—well, we've not set eyes on him since, and I don't suppose we're likely to until his body's washed up."