They saw that he was agitated, although he tried to speak as if nothing were the matter; and they drew back, respecting his emotion. As for Elizabeth, she waited: she could do nothing else. A little while ago she had said to herself that Percival was not changed: she thought differently now. He was changed; and yet she did not know how or why.

He stopped at the door, and turned to her. He still held her hand in a close, warm grasp. "Don't be startled," he said, gently. "I am going to surprise you very much. There is a friend of mine here: remember, I say, a friend of mine. He was saved from the wreck of the _Falcon_--do you understand whom I mean?"

And then he opened the door. "Brian," he said, in a voice that seemed strange to Elizabeth, because of its measured quietness, "come here."

Elizabeth was trembling from head to foot. "Don't be afraid, child," he said, with more of an approach to his old tones and looks than she had yet heard or seen; "nobody will hurt you. Here he is--and I think I may fairly say that I have kept my word."

Brian Luttrell had been collecting the possessions which he thought that his comrades might wish to take with them as mementoes of their stay upon the island. He sprang up quickly at the first sound of Percival's voice, and then stood, as if turned to stone, looking at Elizabeth. The healthy colour faded from his face, leaving it nearly as pale as hers; he set his lips, and Percival could see that he clenched his hands.

Elizabeth did not look up at all.

"Is this all the thanks I get," said Percival, in an ironical tone, "for introducing one cousin to another? I have taken a good deal of trouble for you both; I think that now you have met you might be civil to each other."

There was a perceptible pause. Elizabeth was the first to recover herself. She made a step forward and put out her hand, which Brian instantly took in his. But neither of them spoke. Percival, with his back against the door, and his arms folded, observed them with a slightly humorous smile.

"You are surprised," he said to Elizabeth, "and I don't wonder. The last thing you expected was to find me on good terms with Brian Luttrell, was it not? And we have been on fairly good terms, have we not, Luttrell?"

"He saved my life twice," said Brian.

"And he nursed me through a fever," interposed Percival, with a huge laugh, "so we are quits. Oh, we have both played our parts in a highly creditable manner as long as we were on a desert island; but the island is inhabited now, and I think it's time that we returned to the habits of civilised life. As a matter of fact, I consider Brian Luttrell my deadliest enemy."

"You do nothing of the kind," said Brian, unable to repress a smile, although it hardly altered the look of pain that had come into his eyes.

"Don't believe him, Miss Murray: I am glad to say that we are good friends."

"Idyllic simplicity! Don't you know that I did but dissemble, like the man in the play? How can we be friends when we both----" he stopped short, looked at Elizabeth, and then back at Brian, and finished his sentence--"both want to marry the same woman?"

"Heron, you are going too far. Don't make these allusions; they are unsuitable," said Brian.

Elizabeth had winced as if she had received a blow. Percival laughed in their faces.

"Out of taste, isn't it?" he said. "I ought to ignore the circumstances under which we meet, and talk as if we were in a drawing-room. I'm not such a fool. Look here, you two: let us talk sensibly. I have surely a right to demand something of you both, have I not?"

"Yes, yes, indeed," they answered.

"Then, for Heaven's sake, speak the truth! Here have I been chasing Brian half over the world, getting myself shipwrecked and thrown on desert islands, and what not, all because I wanted you, Elizabeth, to acknowledge that I was not such a mean and selfish wretch as you concluded me to be. Have I cleared myself? or, perhaps I should say, have I expiated the crime that I did commit?"

"It was no crime," said Brian, warmly. "No one who knows you could think you capable of meanness."

"I was not speaking to you, Mr. Luttrell," said Percival. "You're not in it at all. I am having a little conversation with my cousin. Well, Elizabeth, what do you say?"

"I think you have been most kind and generous," she said.

"Then I may retire with a good character? And, to come back to what I said before, as we both wish----"

"You are not generous now, Heron," said Brian, quickly.

"No! But I will be--sometime. You seem very anxious to repudiate all desire to marry my cousin. Have you changed your mind?"

"Percival, I will not listen. Have you brought me here only to insult me?" cried Elizabeth, passionately.

Percival smiled. "I am waiting for Brian Luttrell's answer," he replied, looking at him steadily.

"I do not know what answer you expect," said Brian, "unless you want me to say the truth--that I loved Elizabeth Murray with all my heart and soul, before I knew that she had promised to be your wife; and that as I loved her then, I love her still. It is my misfortune--or my privilege--to do so; I scarcely know which. And for that reason, as you know, I have earnestly wished never to cross her path again, lest I should trouble her or distress her in any way."

"Fate has been against you," said Percival, grimly. "You seem destined to cross her path in one way or another--and mine, too. It is time all this came to an end. You think I am saying disagreeable things for the mere pleasure of saying them; but it is not so. I will beg your pardon afterwards if I hurt you. What I want to say is this: I withdraw all my claims, if I had any, to Miss Murray's hand. I release her from any promise that she ever made to me. She is as free to choose as--as you are yourself, or as I am. We have both offered ourselves to Miss Murray at different times. It is for her to say which of us she prefers."

There was a silence. Elizabeth's face changed from white to red, from red to white again. At last she looked up, and looked at Brian. He came to her side at once, as if he saw that she wanted help.

"Percival," he said, "you are very generous in act: be generous in word as well. Let the matter rest. It is cruel to ask her to decide."

"It seems to me that she has decided," said Percival, with a sharp, short laugh, "seeing that she lets you speak for her."

"Oh, Percival, forgive me," murmured Elizabeth.

A spasm of pain seemed to pass over his face as he turned towards her: then it grew strangely gentle. "My dear," he said, "I never pretended to be anything but a very selfish fellow; but if I can secure your happiness, I shall feel that I have accomplished one, at least, of the ends of my life. There!"--with a laugh: "I think that's well said.

Haven't I known for months that I should be obliged to give you up to Luttrell in the long run? And the worst is, that I haven't the satisfaction of hating him through it all, because we have managed--I don't know how--to fight our way to a sort of friendship. Eh, Brian? And now I'll leave you to yourself for a few minutes, and you can settle the matter while you have the opportunity."

He walked out of the hut before they could protest. But the smile died away from his lips when he had left them, and was succeeded for a few minutes by an expression of intense pain. He stood and looked at the sea; perhaps it was the dazzling reflection of the sun upon the waters which made his eyes so dim. After five minutes' reflection, he shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

"There's one great consolation in returning to civilised life," he said, strolling up to the group of friends as they returned from a walk round the island. "That is--tobacco! Fate can't do much harm to the man who smokes." And he accepted a cigarette from Mr. Fane. "Now," he continued, "fortune may buffet me as she pleases; I do not care. I have not smoked for four months. Consequently I am as happy as a king."

He smoked with evident satisfaction; but Angela thought that she discerned a look of trouble upon his face.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

ANGELA.

"So it was not you after all, sir," said Captain Somers, surveying Heron with some surprise, and then glancing towards a secluded corner, where Brian and Elizabeth were absorbed in an apparently very interesting conversation. "Well, I must have made a mistake. I didn't know anything about the other gentleman."

"Oh, we kept him dark," returned Percival, lightly. "My cousin didn't want her affairs talked about. They make a nice couple, don't they?"

"Ay, sir, they do. Mr. Vivian made a mistake, too, perhaps," said Captain Somers, with some curiosity.

"We're all liable to make mistakes at times," replied Percival, smiling.

"I don't think they've made one now, at any rate."

And then he left Captain Somers, and seated himself on a chair, which happened to be close to the one occupied by Angela Vivian. Brian and Elizabeth were still within the range of his vision: although he was not watching them he was perfectly conscious of their movements. He saw Brian take Elizabeth's hand in his and raise it gently to his lips. The two did not know that they could be seen. Percival stifled a sigh, and twisted his chair round a little, so as to turn his back to them. This manoeuvre brought him face to face with Angela.

"They look very happy and comfortable over there, don't they?" he said.

"I think they will be very happy," she answered.

"I shouldn't wonder." He moved restlessly in his chair, and looked towards the sea. "You know the story," he said. "I suppose you mean she will be happier with him than with me?"

"She loves him," said Angela scarcely above her breath.