Maxwell laughed good-humoredly, though a trace of shadow crept back into his face.
"No," he said slowly; "there was a time when they took a very secondary place. Every one has his weaknesses, and even now I have not quite got over mine."
The friendship between the two men had never been demonstrative, but it was deep enough to make Dane's comment no liberty.
"I can guess. The old story, no doubt. 'It was the woman who tempted me!' She treated you badly?"
"No," Maxwell answered quietly, looking hard at his companion. "She—God bless her—could treat no one harshly. It was my own folly to dream that she, with her fresh young beauty and the light-heartedness of innocence, could find anything congenial in such a taciturn, somber man as myself. Well, that romance is over, but it has left its mark; and now all that I hope for is that Culmeny will flourish for a brief space under the last of an unfortunate family."
Now there are limits beyond which even one who has sickened and fought and suffered beside a trusted comrade may hardly go, and Dane repressed the question which trembled on his lips. Nevertheless, he afterward fancied that if he had asked it then Maxwell would have answered him; and the revelation probably would have made a vast difference in the future of both of them. Dane did not, however, ask.
He was partly dazed by his own good fortune, and, when at last they ceased from speech, he sat in contented silence conjuring up roseate visions of the future. It was true that he had quarreled with Lilian, or she had quarreled with him; but during the time of stress and struggle the importance of the difference between them had—so it seemed to the man—steadily diminished. He could recall significant trifles which suggested that the time would come when the woman would no longer enforce the terms of their compact; and he felt that it was at least possible that, returning triumphant, he would find that she had already forgiven his supposed offenses. So hope rose victorious over doubts and dejection; and Dane was nodding, dreaming, while still half-awake, golden dreams, when Maxwell's voice recalled him to the laborious present.
"It is past midnight, and the task before us will tax our uttermost energies. Isn't it time to turn in, Hilton?"
Dane nodded.
"We will begin at sunrise," he said; "work every possible hour, and start back for England whenever the yield falls off. It is better to make sure of a portion than risk the whole by straining for too much; and fortune does not appear to favor white men overlong in this country. Even if we were but half satisfied, it should not be difficult to float a company."