"We can at least return to our former status as good friends, can we not?" he said. "I see you are anxious for my news, and it may be a painful story; but first I must ask you a question. What fortunate accident brought you here?"
"I was unwell and ordered south to escape the spring." Seeing the anxiety in the man's face, Lilian added quickly, "I have recovered now. My aunt will be here in a few minutes, but Mr. Chatterton has gone across the island. An Englishman he met invested some money in a sugar-mill the Spaniards are reconstructing, and he could not resist the temptation of joining him. My uncle has a weakness for showing other people how to manage machinery. It is your turn now, but first, where is your partner?"
In spite of Lilian's intention the last question was put with a sharpness which surprised the listener.
"He is alive and well, I hope," he answered gravely. "My story will be longer, but I will try to tell it to you clearly."
The waltz the band played in the plaza below formed a curious accompaniment to such a tale. After the first few sentences neither of them, however, heard the music, and Lilian leaned forward with the color changing in her intent face as she listened. Maxwell suppressed the most gruesome details, but the narrative would have been startling to any one of the girl's upbringing. The thunder of the sunset gun brought it to an abrupt conclusion, and as the long reverberations rolled among the hills, Lilian rose suddenly and turned upon the speaker. There was scorn, as well as horror, in her eyes.
"And you left him in that pestilence-stricken camp to be murdered by the tribesmen—you coward!"
They were equally off their guard, and, for there are occasions when human nature mocks at all conventional restraint, both had dropped the mask. When once before they spoke openly it was Maxwell who had laid bare his heart, and now, though he made a valiant effort, he could not conceal his astonishment.
"And I never guessed," he said under his breath.
So for a few seconds they stood, with inmost thoughts laid open, face to face. Maxwell, having revealed the less, first recovered himself.
"I am afraid I have told my story badly, Miss Chatterton," he said. "You see there was gold enough to excite most men's cupidity lying within our sight, and that was why we drew lots to determine which should go out and seek help to secure it. Dane was, for a reason he did not mention, not only willing, but anxious, to stake his life on the chance of turning that gold into currency, and the lot fell to me. Being unable to raise the necessary funds by cable, I am now on my way to England, to sell my last possessions and pledge whatever in the future may be mine. Then, if I have to go alone, I am going back into the Leopards' country to bring my comrade help."