think you dead. I will undertake then that the truth shall never reach
her. She will be safe. But there can be no middle course. She shall not
be exposed to the damnable risk of finding herself stranded."

He ceased to speak, and in the moonlight their eyes met as the eyes of
men who grip together in a death-struggle.

The silence between them was more terrible than words. It held
unutterable things.

Dacre spoke at last, his voice low and hoarse. "I can't do it. There is
too much involved. Besides, it wouldn't really help. She would come to
know inevitably."

"She will never know." Inexorably came the answer, spoken with pitiless
insistence. "As to ways and means, I have provided for them. It won't be
difficult in this wilderness to cover your tracks. When the news has
gone forth that you are dead, no one will look for you."

A hard shiver went through Dacre. His hands clenched. He was as a man in
the presence of his executioner. The paralysing spell was upon him
again, constricting as a rope about his neck. But sacrifice was no part
of his nature. With despair at his heart, he yet made a desperate bid
for freedom.

"The whole business is outrageous!" he said. "It is out of the question.
I refuse to do it. Matters have gone too far. To all intents and
purposes, Stella is my wife, and I'm damned if any one shall come
between us. You may do your worst! I refuse."