"Forgive me, Juanita," I said. "I spoke roughly to you, but it was only natural under the circumstances. I believe what you say, and regret that I should have given you additional pain. Where are you staying now?"
She gave me her address and I asked if she would allow me to take her home. She consented, and as it was too far to walk, I called a hansom. Placing her in it, I seated myself beside her, and we rattled off. As we went her spirits began to revive. She recalled our voyage in the schooner, our love-making in Thursday Island, and many other little circumstances connected with our mutual past.
At length, after passing down a long overgrown thoroughfare, the cab pulled up before a house. She got out and opened the front door while I paid the cabman. Then we went up-stairs together to her sitting-room. Once there, her light-hearted manner left her altogether.
"Jack," she began sadly, "I know it is all over between us, but can you find it in your heart to say you forgive me?"
"Quite, Juanita. Badly as you have treated me, I forgive you everything."
"And you believe, Jack, that whatever I may have done, I loved you once?"
"Yes, I honestly believe that you did love me. But, Juanita, will you let me ask you one question?"
"A hundred if you like, Jack; for this will be our last meeting. After to-night we shall never see each other again."
"That I am going away,--never mind where,--away from England. Now, what is it you wish to ask me?"
"Oh, Jack, that is a long story, and a sad one. But I will tell you. Once I was poor,--oh, so poor! And to keep myself from starving I sold my honour. A little son was born to me--born in sin and shame. I loved him more than all the world, but knowing what I was, I dared not imperil his immortal soul by letting him remain with me. So I gave him into the keeping of the Good Sisters. But when I did so, I bound myself by a great oath. In bringing him into the world I had done him a wrong which I could never repay. Poverty had compelled me to it, so I swore that I would never rest until I had collected a certain sum of money, by any means, good or bad, to be his property when he should become a man; so that he should never experience the miserable want which wrought his mother's ruin. This I set myself solemnly to accomplish. For a long time I could hear of nothing. Then I joined a certain Society and learnt the game Veneda and the Albino were playing. By chance I discovered Veneda's secret, and I threw my lot in with him, determining to steal the locket which contained the paper, and by that means obtain the money. How I fought for it, how he deceived me, and how the Albino tracked us down, you know. There is one thing, perhaps, of which you are not aware."