"And why am I so far honored, madam?" I said bluntly.

She crimsoned, then went white again. She was trembling now
through her whole frame. At last she broke out: "I am not of that
crew that came to marry! To me you are the veriest stranger, - you
are but the hand at which I caught to draw myself from a pit that
had been digged for me. It was my hope that this hour would never
come. When I fled, mad for escape, willing to dare anything but
that which I left behind, I thought, 'I may die before that ship with
its shameless cargo sets sail.' When the ship set sail, and we met
with stormy weather, and there was much sickness aboard, I
thought, 'I may drown or I may die of the fever.' When, this
afternoon, I lay there in the boat, coming up this dreadful river
through the glare of the lightning, and you thought I slept, I was
thinking, 'The bolts may strike me yet, and all will be well.' I
prayed for that death, but the storm passed. I am not without
shame. I know that you must think all ill of me, that you must feel
yourself gulled and cheated. I am sorry - that is all I can say - I am
sorry. I am your wife - I was married to you to-day - but I know
you not and love you not. I ask you to hold me as I hold myself, a
guest in your house, nothing more. I am quite at your mercy. I am
entirely friendless, entirely alone. I appeal to your generosity, to
your honor" -

Before I could prevent her she was kneeling to me, and she would
not rise, though I bade her do so.

I went to the door, unbarred it, and looked out into the night, for
the air within the room stifled me. It was not much better outside.
The clouds had gathered again, and were now hanging thick and