She shrank from him with a cry. His smile at the thought which he read in her eyes made her study him with a strange, frightened glance.
"Not my hands—the wristbands, partner."
She severed the wristbands and the tears which fell on the bruised hands seemed for the moment to salve their hurt. He offered to take the knife then, but she knelt quickly at his feet and slashed the wet, binding leather from them. The while she did it he kept abjuring her to be careful not to cut off a foot by mistake. He would have been silent could he have known how sacred to this woman was the doing of this personal service for him. But it was just as well that he was not silent, for as she saw what the sea had done to him it took the last element of her will to keep from breaking down.
"Now you must go and lie down," she urged when she had helped him to get up to a standing position.
"No, I must keep going. I——"
He swayed and sank to his knees. His will nor her strength could keep him up. He gritted his teeth in rebellion.
"I must get up! I will—and go on!"
This came from him in a savage cry. He tried to rise again. He got one foot under him and then fell inertly with his back against the side of the lounge house. Abused Nature would have her due.
The sight of this strong man down, helpless, tore the heart of the gold woman from its moorings. She knelt beside him, agony blinding her with tears.
"Paul, you must listen to me," she pleaded passionately. "You must let me help you inside—where you can rest—where I can do something for you—something to bring back your strength—bathe your hands and feet."