He raised his hand as if to ward off a blow. She noticed the look of pain that leaped into his eyes.
"Forgive me in your turn. I am sorry I hurt you."
"Do you think it matters? My life will be all one long pain now. I am going away; I have come to say good-bye to you."
"Yes; I cannot live here after what I told you last night. It is impossible for both of us. I must go out into the world again and try to win back the self-respect I have lost. But before I go I want to thank you for all you have done for me; for a month you have enabled me to shake hands with happiness. I can never be sufficiently grateful to you."
"Where--where shall you go when you leave here?"
"I haven't the remotest notion. On to the mainland most probably; out to some station in the far West, where I can forget and be forgotten. What does it matter where I go?"
"Does--does it never strike you that in thus dooming yourself to hopeless misery you are being very cruel to me?"
"It is only to be kind. God knows I have thought of you before myself, and the only conclusion I can come to is that it would be worse for you if I stayed."
"Then good-bye, and may God bless you and protect you always!"
He looked into her face; it was pale as death. She held out her hand, and he raised it to his lips. The knowledge that had come to him the previous night was confirmed now. In that second he learned how much he loved her.
He watched her pass into the house, and was in the act of leaving the spot himself when he heard a heavy fall within. In an instant he had divined its meaning, and was inside the room, to find Esther upon the floor in a dead faint. Raising her in his arms he carried her to a sofa and laid her on it; then, procuring water, he bathed her forehead and chafed her hands till she returned to consciousness. When her eyes opened she looked at him with a frightened stare.
"The sun was too much for you out there. You fainted; fortunately I heard you fall and carried you here. Are you better?"
"Yes, thank you. I am almost all right again."
He took up his hat and left the house. As he crossed the veranda he noticed a stir in the station. The Kanakas had turned out of their hut and were staring in the direction of the bay. From the place where he stood he could see two luggers approaching the jetty.