"Dr. De Normanville," she began,—and it struck me that she hesitated a good deal over what she had to say,—"when my agent visited you in Hong Kong and induced you to come to our assistance, he promised that, as soon as your work was completed, you should he returned safe and sound to the place whence you started. Your work is completed, and now it only remains for you to say—well, to say when you wish to leave us."
This speech, following on top of what I had been thinking myself, put me in a strange position, and for a minute I did not know how to answer. Then a torrent of words and protestations rose upon my lips, but I pressed them back, and to gain time for reflection asked a question.
"I hope that I have done my work to your satisfaction?"
"How can you ask such a thing?" she answered promptly. "You have worked for us as few other men would ever have done. I cannot,"—here her voice trembled a little, and her beautiful eyes filled with tears,—"I cannot ever thank you as I would wish to do."
Either her tear-laden eyes or this expression of her gratitude must have deprived me of my self-control, for when she had finished speaking, my presence of mind completely deserted me, and without more ado I drew closer to her on the tree, and, taking her hand in mine, said, almost without thinking of my words:
"Alie, cannot you see that there can be no question of thanks between us? Cannot you see why I have worked so hard for you? Cannot you see that I would give my own existence to save for you even the life of
