He laughed from a light breast.

“Despise you?  That’s funny!  It was natural.  A damnable combination of circumstances.  I never blamed you.”

They were silent for a few moments.  She looked up to find him smiling oddly.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing much,” he said.  “I was thinking—­human beings are sort of elastic, aren’t they?  After all I’ve been through the last few days—­you don’t know!—­and then this—­you dear one!  It’s a wonder the shock didn’t kill me—­but I feel fine!  Just peaceful.  I don’t care what happens now.”

It was Colina’s turn to lavish her pent-up tenderness upon him then.

After a while she disengaged herself from his arms.  “They will wonder what makes me stay so long,” she murmured.  “And my eyes are red.  Emslie will see when I go out.”

Ambrose poured out water in his basin.  “Dabble your eyes in this,” he said.  “When you’re ready to go I’ll call Emslie in.  Coming in from the light, he won’t notice anything.  You can slip out ahead of him.”

Colina bathed her face as he suggested.  Catching each other’s eyes, they blushed and laughed.

“We must decide quickly what we’re going to do,” she said hastily.

“First read that letter,” said Ambrose.

She read it, leaning back against his shoulder.  “A woman!” she said in a changed voice and straightened up.  She read further.  “She helped you escape!” Colina turned and faced him.  “She believed in you, eh?” she said, her lip curling.

Ambrose’s heart sank.  “Now, Colina—­” he began.  “Why, she never thought anything about it!”

Colina consulted the letter again.  “She ran away with you!” she cried accusingly.

“Followed me,” corrected Ambrose.

“She was in love with you!” Colina’s voice rang bitterly.

“Are you beginning to doubt me already?” he cried, aghast.  “Be reasonable!  You know how it is with these native girls.  The sight of a white man hypnotizes them.  You can’t have lived here without seeing it.  Do you blame me for that?”

She paid no attention to the question.  Struggling to command herself, she said:  “Answer me one question.  It is my right.  Did you ever kiss her?”

Ambrose groaned in spirit, and cast round in his mind how to answer.

“You hesitate!” cried Colina, suddenly beside herself.  “You did!  Ah, horrible!” She violently scrubbed her own lips with the back of her hand.  “A brown girl!  A teepee-dweller!  A savage!  Ugh!  That’s what men are!”

An honest anger nerved Ambrose.  He roughly seized her wrists.  “Listen!” he commanded in a tone that silenced her.  “As I bade her good-by on the shore she asked me to.  She had just risked death to get me out, remember—­worse than death perhaps.  What should I have done?  Answer me that!”

Colina refused to meet the question.  Her assumption of indifference was very painful to see.  She was not beautiful then.  “Don’t ask me,” she said with a sneer.  “I suppose men understand such women.  I cannot.”