He answered her with flame that leaped to hers.  “And don’t you think I would rather die than let you go?”

“Ah!” she said, and no more; for the fierce possession of his hold checked all remonstrance.

She sought to hide her face again, but he would not suffer it, and in the end with an anguished sound she ceased to battle with him and sank down in utter weakness in his hold.

He lifted her then, but he did not kiss her.  He found the sofa and laid her down upon it.  Then she heard him feeling along the wall for the switch.

She reached out a quivering hand and pressed it, then as the light glowed she turned from him, covering her eyes from his look.  He stood for a few seconds gazing down at her, almost as if at a loss.

And while he so stood, there arose a sudden deep throbbing that mingled with the splash of water, and the yacht ceased to rise and fall and thrilled into movement.

Juliet gave a great start.  “Dick!  What are they doing?  Oh, stop them—­stop them!”

He stooped and caught her outflung hands.  His eyes looked deeply into hers.  “They are obeying—­my orders,” he said.

“Yours?” She gazed up at him incredulously, shivering all over as if in an ague.

His face told her nothing.  It was implacable, granite-like, save for the eyes, and from those she shrank uncontrollably as though they pierced her.

“Yes, mine,” he said sombrely.  “I have—­something to teach you, Juliet—­something that you can only learn—­alone with me.  And till you have learnt it, there will be no going back.”

She bent her head to avoid the unwavering directness of his look.  “You—­are going to hurt me—­punish me,” she said under her breath.

His hands still held hers, and strangely there was something sustaining as well as relentless in their grasp.

“It may hurt you,” he said.  “I don’t feel I know you well enough to judge.  As to punishing you—­” he paused a moment—­“well, I think you have punished yourself enough already.”

Again a great tremor went through her,—­a tremor that ended in a sob.  She bent her head a little lower to hide her tears.  But they fell upon his hands and she could not check them.  Her throat worked convulsively, resisting all her efforts and self-control.  She became suddenly blinded and overwhelmed by bitter weeping.

“Ah, Juliet—­Juliet!” he said, and went down on his knees before her, folding her closely, closely to his breast...

It seemed to her a very long time later that she found herself lying exhausted against the sofa-cushions, feeling his arm still about her and poignantly conscious of his touch.  His other hand was pressed upon her forehead, and her tears had ceased.  She could not remember that he had spoken a single word since he had taken her into his arms, neither had he kissed her, but all her fear of him was gone.

Through the open port-hole there came to her the swish of water, and she heard the throb and roar of the engines like the sound of a distant train in a tunnel.  Moved by a deep impulse that came straight from her soul, she took the hand that lay upon her brow and drew it downwards first to her lips, holding it there with closed eyes while she kissed it, then softly to her heart while she turned her eyes to his.