I put my arms round her and held her to my breast with all my force in a clasp that must have been painful to her, but she only laughed delightedly.
Then my promise came back to me. It was impossible to break that. What was the good of torturing myself when I had made it impossible to take her. Why had she come here?
"Where is your husband?" I asked mechanically wondering if any strange fate had removed him from between us.
"Oh, I put him to sleep, he will give no trouble. I gave him opium, so much opium, he will sleep a long time."
"You have not killed him?" I said, in a sudden horror.
Her eyes were wide open and full of extraordinary fire, she seemed in those moments capable of anything.
She put up her little hands and ran them through my hair.
"Such black hair," she murmured. "Ah, how I love it! I love black hair. How it shines, how soft it is! I hate grey hair. It is horrid. No, I have not killed him. He will wake again when we have sailed and are far away from Sitka."
These words drove from me the last veil of clinging sleep. I kept my arms round her and said:
"But, Suzee, I can't take you with me. I promised your husband to-night I would not."