"No," she replied.
Trent nodded—more to himself than to her—and she went on.
"That the jewels were in Tibet—vast, mysterious Tibet—both frightened and fascinated me. To go where no white woman, had been—the land of Marco Polo, Orazio della Penna and Huc! You can understand the lure of it. Yet I think I must have been a little mad to have attempted it—but we all are, aren't we?
"Guru Singh—poor, dear Guru Singh!—tried to persuade me to turn back, but I wouldn't. We went to the Buddhist priest. For an extortionate sum he agreed to guide us to Tali-fang. So we outfitted a caravan, Guru Singh, the monk and I, and two days after you left Myitkyina we took the same trail. I went as a man; I thought it would excite less suspicion. Before leaving, I wrote Alan. I waited until then because I knew he would disapprove.
"At several villages we learned that you had already passed; then, the third afternoon, one of the porters, who was ahead, came back with the news that your pack-train was about a mile in advance. We marched more slowly after that. The nearness of another white person reassured me, for—oh, before that it was terrible in those jungles and swamps! I think the loneliness and the fright, after dark, would have driven me mad had I not remembered what the converted Brahmin priest, who lectured at home, said about the jungle. That comforted me.
"Last—When was it? I can't remember now—but it was late afternoon and I was sitting in front of my tent. The Buddhist priest passed. There was something about him, the way he looked at that moment, that struck me numb to the heart.... I realized what an impossible thing I was trying to do; wondered what would happen if I reached Tali-fang and found I couldn't go further. Yet—yet I couldn't turn back. As I sat there, thinking, a desperate plan unfolded.... I told Guru Singh.
"The next afternoon, late, he and the priest and my porters left for Myitkyina. Guru Singh stayed behind until—until I fired the shot—and—and your muleteer brought you. I began to feel ill, suddenly. I.... Well, that's all. I had intended to tell you that my porters deserted—and other lies, too. I knew you wouldn't leave me; you couldn't send me back, and you'd have to take me with you. But after—after all you did—I couldn't falsify; I couldn't.... Now you know the truth."
She halted—halted and waited for him to speak. But he did not. His eyes were still upon the bracelet, nor did he look up. The silence was long and tense. Finally, unable to endure it longer, she moved her hand tentatively; dropped it; raised it again and let it rest lightly upon his sleeve.
"You—you believe me—don't you?" she faltered.
He drew a deep breath; lifted his head.