"Oh! hush--hush!" cried Humphrey. "I have told you that it can never be."
"And she will never love you as I would--as I do," came in a low, imploring whisper.
"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" cried Humphrey.
"Even if it were not so I could not--No, I will not speak. I only say, for pity's sake let us part."
He paused, for there was no reply.
"You do not answer," he said, gently. "Think of what I say. I cannot give you love. I should be unworthy of yours if I could. My friendship I can give, and it shall be devoted to saving you from this life."
Still no reply; and the silence and darkness seemed deeper than before.
"You do not take my hand!" he said, bitterly. "You do not listen to my words! Come, for heaven's sake be just to me. Say that I have spoken well."
Still no reply, and he listened as he leaned forward; but there was nothing to be heard but the beating of his own heart.
He leaned forward with outstretched hand, and bending down it touched the cold stone of the altar.
He swept his hand to left and right, listening intently; but there was no sound.
"Why do you not speak?" he said, sternly, as he realised the folly of his first surmise.
His words seemed to murmur in the roof and die away, but there was no reply.
He took a few steps in different directions, suddenly and quickly, listening intently the while, feeling certain that he would hear her try to avoid him; but all was silent, and at last he made for the entrance, drew aside the curtain, and stood listening there.
Feeling sure that his visitor could not have gone that way he turned back, and with outstretched hands paced the great chamber to and fro till at each crossing he touched the stone wall.
Satisfied at length that he was alone, and that the great stone which formed his couch had not been moved, he went once more to the great curtain, pulled it aside, and passed through so as to go along the corridor, for now that his visitor had left him the desire to speak again came strongly.
Half-way down the passage he suddenly became aware of an advancing light, and directly after he saw that it was gleaming from the brown face of Bart.
"Hallo! What now?" he growled. "Where are you going?"
"The captain! Did you meet the captain?" said Humphrey hastily.
"Meet him! No. He came to me and sent me back," said Bart, grimly.
"Where is he, then?"
"At his quarters, of course."
Humphrey Armstrong turned upon his heel frowning, as he felt that a great deal of what he had been saying must have been addressed to vacancy.
He did not turn his head as he paced the corridor, but he was aware that he was followed by Bart, whose lantern shed its faint yellow gleam upon the great curtain till he had passed through, and all was in darkness as he crossed the great chamber and threw himself upon the couch. But the place was feebly illuminated directly after, as Bart drew the drapery aside and peered in, holding the lantern well above his head to satisfy himself that his prisoner was there.
Then he drew back, the great curtain fell into its place, and Humphrey's jailer went slowly to his niche, where he set down his light, seated himself, and with arms folded and chin resting upon his breast, moodily brooded over the position.
"A curse!" he muttered more than once--"a curse! If he were dead there would be peace once more, for she would forget him."
"Suppose," he thought, after a while--"suppose he was to be gone next time she came. Well, he might have escaped, and after a time she'd be at rest. It would be so easy, and it would be for her. And yet he's so brave and so handsome, such a man for her! Better see her happy and kill myself. Not that I need!" he said, bitterly; "for she said she'd do that if aught happened to him."
"It's hard work," he muttered, after a while, "seeing the woman you love care for some one else, and him lying there, and as good us asking you to put him out of the way."
Bart's head sank lower as he crouched there, struggling with the great temptation of his life, till at last he slowly rose, and, shading the lantern within his breast, stepped cautiously toward the curtain which draped the door. Stretching out his hand, he was in the act of drawing it softly aside when there was a firm clutch at his shoulder, and a low voice whispered in his ear--
"What are you going to do?"
Bart drew back, let fall the certain, and faced his leader.
"Nothing!" he said, abruptly.
"You villain!" whispered the buccaneer. "I read murder in your eye!"
"I'm tired of it," growled Bart. "I give it up. I know what I am. I hopes for nothing; but when I see you go mad for one who hates you, and who will bring ruin on us all, as well as make you unhappy, it makes me mad too. He's an enemy, and I could kill anybody as gives you pain!"
"As I could, and would, slay you if you hurt a hair of the head of the man I love!"
"The man you love!" muttered Bart, bitterly. "Time back it was the other Captain Armstrong. Now it's him. Anybody but a poor fellow like me!"
"You have told me again and again you were content to be my friend. Go back to the quarters, and I'll watch myself. I have no one here I can trust!"
Bart's face worked as they slowly returned along the corridor, and rage and pain were marked in turn upon his features.
As they reached the place where he set down his lantern, he stood in a bent attitude, as if pondering upon the words which had been said.
"Why are you waiting?" said the captain, imperiously.
"Them words o' yours," said Bart. "You said you could kill me."
"As I would have done," was the fierce reply, "if harm had befallen him!"
"Better it had!" said Bart, bitterly. "Better it had, and you'd killed me. Saved you from pain, and me from a life of misery. Am I to go?"
"Yes," said the captain, less firmly, as the man's tones betrayed the agony of his spirit. "Go; I have no one now whom I can trust!"
"Don't say that to me," said the poor fellow, hoarsely, as he fell upon his knees and clasped his hands. "Kill me if you like, captain, but don't doubt me. All these years I've done nothing but try and serve you faithful and well."
"And you would have slain the man I love!"
"Something tempted me, and it said that it was for your good, and when it was like that I felt I could do anything."
"You would have betrayed me!"
"I would have killed him as give you pain, him who has changed you, and broken you down to what you are. I knew as I now know, that it's ruin to you!"
"Silence, man, and go!"