The Master had told himself only a few hours more remained, at all events, before the woman should be cast off and abandoned in whatever strange land might befall--probably Morocco, or it might be the Spanish colony of Rio de Oro on the western fringes of the Sahara.

After that, what responsibility for her safety or her welfare would be his?
Why, he had none, even now! "But, man," the small voice insinuated, "she came to you on an errand of mercy, to nurse and care for such as might fall ill or be wounded.
It was not wholly the desire for adventure that led her to deceive you.

Her motive was high and fine!" "A curse on all women!" retorted the other voice.

"Away with her!" And this sterner voice again prevailed.

Still, at thought that sometime during the day now close at hand he was to see the last of this woman who had stood there before him in his cabin, with dark eyes looking into his, with eager, oval face upturned to his, with all that glory of lustrous hair a flood about her shoulders, something unknown, unwonted, fingered at the latchets of his heart.
He realized that he felt strange, uneasy, uprooted from his sober aplomb.