occurred to him that this, whatever happened, should not be a deed of darkness. Mr. Travers did nothing but turn his head to look over his shoulder.
'One moment,' said d'Alcacer, in a low tone and smiling at Mrs. Travers' agitation. 'Before you tell me anything let me ask you: 'Have
Then their voices sank. Lingard hung the lamp up again and stood idle in the revived light; but almost immediately he heard d'Alcacer calling him discreetly.
'Captain Lingard!'
He moved toward them at once. At the same instant Mr. Travers' head pivoted away from the group to its frontal position.
D'Alcacer, very serious, spoke in a familiar undertone.
'Mrs. Travers tells me that we must be delivered up to those Moors on shore.'
'Yes, there is nothing else for it,' said Lingard.
'I confess I am a bit startled,' said d'Alcacer; but except for a slightly hurried utterance nobody could have guessed at anything resembling emotion.
'I have a right to my good name,' said Lingard, also very calm, while Mrs. Travers near him, with half-veiled eyes, listened impassive like a presiding genius.
'I wouldn't question that for a moment,' conceded d'Alcacer. 'A point of honour is not to be discussed. But there is such a thing as humanity, too. To be delivered up helplessly. . . .'
'Perhaps!' interrupted Lingard. 'But you needn't feel hopeless. I am not at liberty to give up my life for your own. Mrs. Travers knows why. That, too, is engaged.'
'Always on your honour?'
'I don't know. A promise is a promise.'
'Nobody can be held to the impossible,' remarked d'Alcacer.
'Impossible! What is impossible? I don't know it. I am not a man to talk of the impossible or dodge behind it. I did not bring you here.'
D'Alcacer lowered his head for a moment. 'I have finished,' he said, gravely. 'That much I had to say. I hope you don't think I have appeared unduly anxious.'
'It's the best policy, too.' Mrs. Travers made herself heard suddenly. Nothing of her moved but her lips, she did not even raise her eyes. 'It's the only possible policy. You believe me, Mr. d'Alcacer? . . .' He made an almost imperceptible movement of the head. . . . 'Well, then, I put all my hope in you, Mr. d'Alcacer, to get this over as easily as possible and save us all from some odious scene. You think perhaps that it is I who ought to. . . .'
'No, no! I don't think so,' interrupted d'Alcacer. 'It would be impossible.'
'I am afraid it would,' she admitted, nervously.
D'Alcacer made a gesture as if to beg her to say no more and at once crossed over to Mr. Travers' side of the Cage. He did not want to give himself time to think about his task. Mr. Travers was sitting up on the camp bedstead with a light cotton sheet over his legs. He stared at nothing, and on approaching him d'Alcacer disregarded the slight sinking of his own heart at this aspect which seemed to be that of extreme terror. 'This is awful,' he thought. The man kept as still as a hare in its form.
The impressed d'Alcacer had to make an effort to bring himself to tap him lightly on the shoulder.
'The moment has come, Travers, to show some fortitude,' he said with easy intimacy. Mr. Travers looked up swiftly. 'I have just been talking to your wife. She had a communication from Captain Lingard for us both. It remains for us now to preserve as much as possible our dignity. I hope that if necessary we will both know how to die.'
In a moment of profound stillness, d'Alcacer had time to wonder whether his face was as stony in expression as the one upturned to him. But suddenly a smile appeared on it, which was certainly the last thing d'Alcacer expected to see. An indubitable smile. A slightly contemptuous smile.
'My wife has been stuffing your head with some more of her nonsense.' Mr. Travers spoke in a voice which astonished d'Alcacer as much as the smile, a voice that was not irritable nor peevish, but had a distinct note of indulgence. 'My dear d'Alcacer, that craze has got such a hold of her that she would tell you any sort of tale. Social impostors, mediums, fortune-tellers, charlatans of all sorts do obtain a strange influence over women. You have seen that sort of thing yourself. I had a talk with her before dinner. The influence that bandit has got over her is incredible. I really believe the fellow is half crazy himself. They often are, you know. I gave up arguing with her. Now, what is it you have got to tell me? But I warn you that I am not going to take it seriously.'
He rejected briskly the cotton sheet, put his feet to the ground and buttoned his jacket. D'Alcacer, as he talked, became aware by the slight noise behind him that Mrs. Travers and Lingard were leaving the Cage, but he went on to the end and then waited anxiously for the answer.
'See! She has followed him out on deck,' were Mr. Travers' first words. 'I hope you understand that it is a mere craze. You can't help seeing that. Look at her costume. She simply has lost her head. Luckily the world needn't know. But suppose that something similar had happened at home. It would have been extremely awkward. Oh! yes, I will come. I will go anywhere. I can't stand this hulk, those people, this infernal Cage. I believe I should fall ill if I were to remain here.'
The inward detached voice of Jorgenson made itself heard near the gangway saying: 'The boat has been waiting for this hour past, King Tom.'
'Let us make a virtue of necessity and go with a good grace,' said d'Alcacer, ready to take Mr. Travers under the arm persuasively, for he did not know what to make of that gentleman.
But Mr. Travers seemed another man. 'I am afraid, d'Alcacer, that you, too, are not very strong-minded. I am going to take a blanket off this bedstead. . . .' He flung it hastily over his arm and followed d'Alcacer closely. 'What
