ou trouble and kept you awake looking after me at night. I wasn't always
quite sensible, but I remember how often you sat here and brought me cool
things to drink. Indeed, I expect you helped to save my life." He paused
and resumed in a voice that thrilled with feeling: "This wasn't all you
did. When I was having a very bad time before I left England and
everybody believed the worst, you sent me a letter saying that you knew I
was innocent."

"You told me you tore up the letter," Clare remarked quietly.

Dick's face got red. He had not taken the line he meant to take and was
obviously making a mess of things.

"Are you sure I wasn't delirious?"

"I don't think so. Did you tear up the letter?"

He gave her a steady look, for he saw that he must nerve himself to face
the situation. It was unfortunate that he was too ill to deal with it
properly, but he must do the best he could.

"I'll answer that if you'll tell me how you knew I was innocent."

Clare looked puzzled, as if his manner had jarred; and Dick saw that she
was not acting. Her surprise was real. He could not understand this, but
felt ashamed of himself.

"In a sense, of course, I didn't know," she answered with a touch of
embarrassment. "Still, I felt you didn't steal the plans. It seemed
impossible."

"Thank you," said Dick, who was silent for the next few moments. He
thought candor was needed and had meant to be frank, but he could not
wound the girl who had taken care of him.

"Anyhow, I lost the papers and that was almost as bad," he resumed
feebly. "When you get into trouble people don't care much whether you're
a rogue or a fool. You're in disgrace and that's all that matters.
However, I mustn't bore you with my grumbling. I'm getting better and
they want me at the dam."

"Then I suppose you must go as soon as you are able," Clare agreed, and
began to talk about something else.

She left him soon and Dick lay still, frowning. It had been a trying
interview and he doubted if he had come through it well, but hoped Clare
would make allowances for his being ill. He did not want her to think him
ungrateful, and had certainly no wish to punish her for what had happened
in the past. But she had stolen his papers and he must get away.

He was taken away next morning, with the consent of the doctor, who
agreed that the air would be more invigorating on the hill. Clare did not
come down to see him off and Dick felt strangely disappointed, although
sh