"And yet she was willing to give up a hundred and twenty thousand a year, and the position she would have in English society as your wife?"
"Then all I can say, is," said Jimmy, with considerable conviction, "she must be one in a million. But I interrupted you; I'm sorry. Go on."
"Well," continued Browne, "to make a long story short, she finished by telling me the sad story of her life. Of course she said that she could not possibly marry me, being the daughter of a convict. Then she went on to add that news had lately come to her--how I cannot say--that her father is dying. It seems that he has been in failing health for some years; and at last the terrible climate, the roughness of the living, and the knowledge that he was hopelessly cut off for the rest of his existence from all he held dear in the world, has resulted in a complete collapse. To hope to obtain a pardon from the Russian Government would be worse than futile. All that remains is to get him away."
"But, surely, my dear old Browne," said Jimmy, who had listened aghast, "it cannot be possible that you dream of assisting in the escape of a Russian convict from Saghalien?"
"That is exactly what I _do_ think," replied Browne, with unusual earnestness. "Come what may, if it costs me all I am worth in the world, I am going to get the man out of that hell on earth. Try to think, my dear fellow, how you would feel if you were in that girl's place. Her father, the man whom she has been brought up to believe has been sacrificed for his country's good, is dying. She declares it is her duty to be with him. How can I let her do that?"
"Well, what remains? Either she must go to him, or he must come to her."
"In plain words, she wants you to risk your good name, all you have in the world, your happiness, your very life indeed, in order to get a fanatic out of the trouble he has brought upon himself."
"You can put it how you like," said Browne; "but that is practically what it means. But remember she is the woman who is to be my wife. If I lose her, what would life be worth to me?"
This was the crucial part of the interview. For the first time it struck Browne that he was figuring before his friend in rather a selfish light.