ld never be quite the same man again. He was
prompted by Gordon Strange. Colina was not present. Ambrose had not
seen her upon landing.

The hearing was merely a perfunctory affair. All the prisoners were
remanded to Prince George for trial.

Ambrose gathered from the talk that reached his ears that it was
intended to send everybody, prisoners, and witnesses, including Gordon
Strange, Gaviller and Colina up the river next day in the launch and a
scow.

To travel seven days in her sight, a prisoner--he wondered if there
were any dregs of bitterness remaining in the cup after this!

They gave Ambrose the jail to himself. This was a little log-shack
behind the quarters with iron-bound door and barred window.

To him in the course of the afternoon came Inspector Egerton moved by
his sense of duty. He officially informed Ambrose that he was to be
taken up the river next morning.

"Is there anything you want?" he asked stiffly.

"I left a friend here," Ambrose said with a bitter smile. "I'd like to
see him if he's willing to come."

"Whom do you mean?"

"Simon Grampierre."

The inspector looked grave. "He's under arrest," he said. "I can't
let you communicate."

"Can I see his son then, Germain Grampierre?"

"Sorry. He's on parole."

Ambrose had been counting on this more than he knew, to talk with some
man, even a breed, who believed in him. It is a necessity of our
natures under trial. To deny it was like robbing him of his last hope.
Some power of endurance suddenly snapped within him.

"What do you come here for?" he cried in a breaking voice. "To torture
me? Must I be surrounded day and night only by those who think me a
murderer! For God's sake get the thing over with! Take me to town and
hang me if that's what you want! A month of this and I'd be a
gibbering idiot anyway!"

The ring of honest pain in this aroused dim compunctions in the
admirable little colonel. He twisted his big mustache uncomfortably.
"I'm sure I've done what I could for you," he said.

"Everything except let me alone," cried Ambrose. "For God's sake go
away and let me be!" He flung himself face downward on his cot.

Inspector Egerton withdrew stiffly.

Ambrose lay with his head in his arms, and let his shaking nerves quiet
down. A fit of the blackest despair succeeded. To his other troubles
he now added hot shame--that he had broken down before his enemy.

It seemed to him in the retrospect that he had