All the color had
left her face. "What--what is it?"

"Don't mean to alarm you, my dear, but Mr. Gillett thinks the convict
might be concealing himself somewhere in the house; indeed, that it is
quite likely. So we are making a little tour of inspection. Shall we not
go through your rooms? There! don't be frightened!" quickly, "only as a
matter of precaution, you know."

"I," she seemed to catch her breath, "it is really quite unnecessary. I
have been through them myself."

"Might have known that!" with an attempt at jocoseness. "But thought we
would make sure. Your balcony, you have looked there?"

"Yes."

"Very well; lock your window leading to it. Only as a matter of
precaution," he repeated hastily. "No need of our coming in, I fancy.
You had retired?"

"I--was about to."

"Quite right." A moment the party lingered. "Shall I send one of the
maids to sleep in your dressing-room? Company, you know! Your voice
sounds a little nervous."

"Does it? Not at all!" she said hastily. "I am--not in the least
nervous."

"Good night, then!" They went. "One of my men in the garden felt sure he
had seen him return toward the house," Mr. Gillett's voice was wafted
back, became fainter, died away.

The man in the room stood motionless now, his face like that of a statue
save for the light and life of his eyes. The clock beat the moments; he
looked at her. The girl was almost turned from him; he saw more of the
bright hair than the pale profile, so still against the delicately
carved arabesques of the panel.

"The other way would have been--preferable!"

There was nothing reckless or bold in his bearing now; but, looking
away, she did not see. Was he tempted, if only in an infinitesimal
degree, to suggest a plea of mitigating circumstances--not for his own
sake but for hers; that she might feel less keenly that sense of hurt,
of outraged pride, for having smiled on him, admitted him to a certain
frank, free intimacy? Before the words fell from his lips, however, she
turned; her gaze arrested his purpose, made him feel poignantly,
acutely, the distance now between them. "What were you," she hesitated,
emphasized over-sharply the word, "transported for?"

An instant his eyes flashed suddenly back at her, as if he were on the
point of answering, telling her all, disavowing; but to what end? To ask
more of her than of others, throw himself on her generosity?

"What does it matter?"

True; what did it matter to her; h