"In the first place, answer me this: Who is your friend? He calls himself Cuthbert Ellison, but who is he?"
Murkard looked away. This was what he had dreaded.
"Well, I'll tell you at least who he is _not_. He is _not_ the Marquis of St. Burden. When he told his wife that he _was_ he lied to her, as he has lied before, and as he will probably lie again."
"How do you know that he told his wife he was? At least, she has not told you."
"Very probably not. But still I know. Perhaps I learned it from you in your delirium."
Murkard groaned. The man's possession of this secret was the very thing he had feared.
"Now, supposing in addition to telling Ellison who _you_ are, I tell her who he is not--what would you say?"
"I should say you were the most inhuman wretch that ever trod God's earth, and it would be the truth. Don't you know--haven't you seen that that woman worships the very ground he treads on, that she believes every word that falls from his lips? Would you shatter her happiness and trust forever, at one blow, and only to gratify your own miserable ends?"
"Yes, do you know, now I think of it, I even believe I should. But you seem to forget that it would be you who had driven me to it. If you go away it will be to my interest not to tell her. I wish to remain on good terms with both of them until my business here is accomplished. Will you go?"
"To-night. At once. You need have no fear."
"I have none, I assure you. I thought just now you were going to make a fool of yourself. I'm glad you can see reason. And look here, my----Oh, very well, if you would rather not, I won't say it. I shall be at home in three months. If I chance upon any members of your family, shall I tell them where they can find you?"
"You need not trouble yourself. They know."
"Very good. Then our business is accomplished. Now let us part."
"Go on. I will follow you. I decline to be seen in your company."
"My dear boy, that is rude, for you will not have another opportunity."
Without going back to his hut, Murkard walked down to the beach, and asked one of the Kanakas he found there to row him across to the settlement. The man did so, and on his return to the station reported the fact to Ellison, who marvelled, but said nothing. He was expecting that night an important visitor in the shape of a globe-trotting pearl dealer, to whom he had written regarding the black pearl, and he had, therefore, small concern for Murkard's doings. The mail boat had arrived that afternoon, and as she was to go on the same night, their appointment was for six o'clock. Even as the fact of Murkard's absence was reported to him by the native, the dealer's boat was to be seen making its way across the straits. He went down to the beach to receive him.