"You may wait a hundred years if you like," broke in Lumley with a savage look.
"And then I mean to set off to try and find it for myself," went on Gray, as if Lumley had not spoken. "You have told me too much if you did not mean to tell me more. I shall walk six miles in one direction, and if I do not get in sight of the trees, I shall walk back and try again. I must hit upon them at last, you know."
"You'd never do it," said Lumley scoffingly. "You're nigh beat already. You'd die in your tracks."
"You're wrong there," returned Gray, with a quiet confidence that had its due effect on his companion. "I shall not be walking aimlessly, you see, and in this moonlight there's no fear of going over the same ground again. I am convinced I shall reach the water in time enough for myself. It is you who will probably suffer for keeping back the information you possess."
"What d'ye mean by that?" broke from Lumley fiercely.
"Just this," said Gray, keeping his glance steadily fixed upon him: "if I could reach this water without delay I should be able to get back to you with a supply; but if I wear out my strength in getting there, I may not be able to get back to you in time. Surely you can see that?"
Lumley glared at him like a trapped beast.
"You're just the one to come back, ain't you?" he exclaimed. "A cove what murdered his own mate for a bit of flimsy. You're one to be trusted, ain't you?"
"You must believe that if you will," said Gray calmly. His voice faltered as he went on after a momentary pause. "I betrayed my mate—the truest, best mate man ever had; but I'll be true to you, Lumley, if you'll give me the chance. I am not the man I was."
The only answer Lumley vouchsafed to that was a harsh mocking laugh. Gray did not speak again, and they sat in silence for some moments, while Lumley dragged up his injured foot and rubbed it, keeping a furtive scrutiny on Gray's determined face. When he had first heard Gray's call and answered it, he had not made up his mind as to whether he should trust him or no, and through their first talk he had wavered to and fro—now feeling ready to risk the chance that Gray would come back to him, now savagely vowing within himself that they should both die, almost within sight of the water that would be life to them, rather than Gray should alone escape. At the last this savage mood had conquered, and he had felt it impossible to trust Gray with his precious secret.