"I will not,"--I answered--"because I cannot!"
For one instant our eyes met--then came SOMETHING between us that
suggested an absolute and irretrievable loss--"Not yet!" he
murmured--"Not yet!" and with a forced smile, he bowed and allowed me
to pass to my cabin. I was glad to be there--glad to be alone--and
overwhelmed as I was by the consciousness that the memories of my soul
had been too strong for me to resist, I was thankful that I had had the
courage to express my invincible opposition to one who had, as I seemed
instinctively to realise, been guilty of an unrepented crime.
That night I slept dreamlessly, and the next morning before seven
o'clock I had left the luxurious 'Diana' for the ordinary passenger
steamer plying from Portree to Glasgow. Mr. Harland kept his promise of
seeing me off, and expressed his opinion that I was very foolish to
travel with a crowd of tourists and other folk, when I might have had
the comfort and quiet of his yacht all the way; but he could not move
me from my resolve, though in a certain sense I was sorry to say
good-bye to him.
"You must write to us as soon as you get home,"--he said, at
parting--"A letter will find us this week at Gairloch--I shall cruise
about a bit longer."
I made no reply for the moment. He had no idea that I was not going
home at all, nor did I intend to tell him.
"You shall hear from me as soon as possible,"--I said at last,
evasively--"I shall be very busy for a time--"
He laughed.
"Oh, I know! You are always busy! Will you ever get tired, I wonder?"