le light from a stained-glass window.

"No," Virginia answered. "If I said that business about the chateau
brought me, it would be merely an excuse. It would make things easier for
me in beginning, but--I wish to say to you only things that are really
true. I came because--because I want to help you."

The white oval of the other's face was suddenly suffused with scarlet.
The dark head was lifted on the slender throat.

"Thank you," she said coldly. "But I am not in need of help. If that is
your reason for thinking of buying this house, I beg----"

"But it is not my reason. What can I say that you won't misunderstand?
There is one whom you love. Just now you were praying for him in that
chapel. I know it. You were praying to God to help him, weren't you? What
if I should be an instrument sent you to be used for that purpose?"

The tragic eyes stared at the eager, beautiful face, dazed and
astonished.

Virginia went on, not seeming to choose her words, but letting them flow
as they would.

"I know how you have suffered. It is only a little while that I have
known, but it seems long, very long. I have seen _his_ portrait, and
partly I came up to tell you this morning that I believe in his
innocence; partly that, but most of all I came to say that he must be
saved."

"Saved?" echoed Madeleine Dalahaide. "But that is not possible. Only
death can save him now."

Neither had uttered a name; neither was aware that it had not been spoken
by the other. For Madeleine always, for Virginia in this hour, one name
rang through the world. There was no need to give it form. And,
strangely, Madeleine was no longer surprised at Virginia's mission.
Perhaps, indeed, she believed her an incarnate answer to prayer; and in a
moment all conventionalities had crumbled to pieces at their feet.

"Why do you say that?" cried the American girl. "Prisoners are released
sometimes."

"Not life-prisoners at Noumea," replied the other; and the answer fell
desolately on Virginia's ear. Yet the thought, lit into life by her own
words, as a flame is lighted by striking a match, had given her courage
which would not die.

"Then he will be the first," she said. "I have been thinking. Oh! it has
all been very vague--a kind of dream. But now I see everything clearly.
Time unravels mysteries not easily solved at first. His innocence must be
proved. Powerful friends shall give all their thoughts, all their
ingenuity----"

"We have no friends," M