"So it went on, year after year, from Honolulu to Shanghai, from Shanghai to Hong Kong, and down the coast to Singapore; a term in Calcutta, another term in Batavia; a year on the West Coast, Lima, Iquiqui, Valparaiso, she never resting, and he following in due time. It's hard to imagine what her life must have been during this pilgrimage; for now we know that she loved him, too, and that her heart likewise burned in the fires of hell. Pride, pride, what anguish will be borne in thy name! She had of course grown into a strong, clear-headed woman; only strength could have carried her so far. But he must have managed things very badly. I haven't a doubt that the thought of him constantly at her heels, the sight of him now and then in her wake, making hard weather of it, spurred her to the course that she had chosen. No woman respects a man who can't solve his own destiny.
"How they finally came to Australia, I don't clearly remember. They must have been there some time; he spoke of Sydney, of Newcastle, of Brisbane, and of Melbourne, where he saw her for the last time. 'I met her face to face one day' said he 'She looked a little tarnished—as if things had been going downhill with her. I suppose I told her so; I wasn't in the mood to dodge facts that day. She was angry at my comment—I don't blame her. But I tried to make up for it the next moment—show her what I really meant, how glad I would be—that is, that it rested with her to change everything. I asked her if I mightn't come to see her; she answered that it wasn't difficult to gain access to her apartment. All the while she was looking me over with a sort of amused scorn. Then she said something that was quite unnecessary. She said I didn't look as if I had the price.... That woke me up. I realized suddenly, fully, decisively, how impossible it was to keep on. Impossible!...' By chance, I'd been talking about Anjer with Captain Roach that very morning. He was sailing the next day, bound up this way, and I came along with him. Reardon leased me the bungalow; I went with Roach to Batavia, for he knew that the consulate had been abandoned. So here I am. I've got a little money, enough to live on. And God's being good to me—I've found a measure of peace. Now you have come along—I think I'll be all right....'
"'Yes, this certainly was the place for you' I temporized, struggling with irritation at the mess he had made of existence. I couldn't but recognize the inevitability of what he had told me; but my heart kept asking, why is it necessary for men to be so selfish, so helpless in the face of results clearly to be foreseen?
"'Exactly' he agreed with my spoken word. 'This land has taught me a great lesson. I'm getting back my grip ... more than I hoped....' He stopped abruptly. Again I had the feeling of something being held back, of something missing from the story. I awoke to the fact that, notwithstanding all he had told me, his present spiritual status remained unexplained. He quite obviously had recovered his grip—but how, and why? It wasn't in keeping with the rest of the hidden years. And of course I didn't believe my own platitude on the influence of the land.
"'I mean, I'm getting back my self-respect' he said 'I'm really thinking of going home. The past begins to look like a sort of joke—a horrible, fantastic joke; but I shall leave off loving her now. Try to, anyway. I've learned....'
"I wondered what it could be that so puzzled me about the case. After I'd gone to bed that night—it was nearly morning—I lay awake for a long while trying to think the problem out. Why had he lost his self-respect, in the beginning? Because she wouldn't love him? I thought I knew him well enough to recognize this as the correct answer; he belonged to the unhappy company of men who can't support life when the ego is denied. But she had sent him away, at last, with a lash of the whip, with scorn that even his tried humility couldn't brook. How the devil, then, had he recovered his self-respect? Self-respect is a matter of human relations; it can't be drawn out of the air.
V
"While I tossed on the bed, vainly trying to piece this broken logic together, I heard someone moving on the opposite side of the house. Bert and I were alone in the bungalow. He, too, had been kept awake by the excitement of our meeting. Soon he began to pace softly up and down the far side of the verandah. I was debating in my mind the wisdom of going out to have another smoke with him, when his footsteps seemed to leave the porch and sink into the grass. In a moment I heard low voices outside, a little distance from the house. I couldn't make out what was being said. Suddenly I thought that someone must have come with a message from the ship. I jumped up and ran to the window.
"My window opened on the patch of moonlight across which I'd come earlier in the evening. He stood there now, as if waiting; and, before I could speak, a woman came toward him with a gliding, crouching step, starting out of the very shadow where I'd paused to hear the song. As she drew near, he held out his arms; she quickened her pace, like a jungle deer, and flung herself on his breast, uttering low, native cries. 'You are safe? You will not go?' she asked breathlessly. 'Safe?' he asked, bending above her 'Have you been watching?' She looked into his face with a glance of infinite concern. 'The man stood beside me, as I was about to call' said she 'I would have killed him, but I saw that you were warned' 'Thank God!' he exclaimed 'You should have known—and gone away' She drew her arms about his neck. 'I could not go!' she cried 'I had to see you!' 'Hush!' said he 'Speak lower—you will wake my friend'
"She used perfect English, though her language was picturesque. 'Your friend? Who is your friend?' she asked fiercely 'In all the time that you have dwelt here, no ships have waited, you have had no friends come. Who is your friend that comes in a great ship, unknown and unbidden?' He smiled down at her. 'Dear heart' said he 'he is more than brother to me, and I have not seen him for many years'