Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/266

 "I know it," she said. She was no longer looking at him.

"And I have certain duties to perform."

A silence fell between them. He found it hard to go on.

"You mean you can't let me go?" she finally suggested.

"No," he replied, "I can't let you go."

"Once," she said, "you told me I could count on your help."

"How can enemies help each other?"

She looked up quickly.

"We can never be enemies—now."

"And still there is nothing I can do."

"There is only one thing."

"What?" he asked, staring at the pale oval of her face.

"You must let me go."

"But where?"

"Anywhere. Anywhere away from here!"

"But that would only mean going out into danger."

She smiled a little wanly.

"I shall have to learn to face that danger."

"But you can't fight a thing like this out alone. You'll need help."

"I shall have to learn to fight it out alone. And I'm not afraid any more."

A great desolation was eating at his heart, the desolation of a man who must face failure both before and behind him.

"But how could I ever find you?"

That query arrested her as she moved to adjust the