d his trial now, and I couldn't resist the chance of
being present at it. He was recalled to Paris a week ago, and summarily
arrested; but as popular feeling is running very high, the trial is to be
held at Valpre, which is a fairly important military station. That means
that the court-martial will take place probably in the fortress in which
the crime was committed--a pleasing consummation of justice."

"And--Bertie will be vindicated?" breathed Chris.

"If Rodolphe is convicted," Mordaunt answered, "Bertrand will be in a
position to return to France and demand a second trial, the outcome of
which would be practically a foregone conclusion, and at which I hope I
shall be present."

Chris drew a sharp breath. "Then--then he will go to Valpre too?"

"Not yet. He would be arrested and imprisoned if he did, and might
possibly ruin his cause as well. No, he will have to play a waiting game
for the present. I think myself it is the turn of the tide, but things
may yet go against him. There is no knowing. He is better off where he is
till we can see which way the matter will go. He doesn't want to spend
the rest of his life in a fortress."

Chris shuddered uncontrollably at the bare thought. "Oh no--no! Trevor,
you won't let him run any risk of that?"

"I shall certainly counsel prudence," Mordaunt answered. "If he runs any
risks, it will be with his eyes open."

He paused a moment, then turned her face tenderly up to his own, and
kissed it. "And you don't like the Valpre plan?" he said, with great
gentleness.

She hesitated.

"We can go elsewhere if you prefer it," he said. "The court-martial will
probably only take a few days. We can stay somewhere near while it is in
progress. But I must have you with me wherever it is."

He spoke the last words with his arms closely enfolding her. She turned
with sudden impulse and clasped him round the neck.

"Oh, Trevor," she murmured brokenly, "you are good to me--you are good!"

"My darling," he whispered back, "your happiness is mine--always."

She made a choked sound of dissent. "I'm horribly selfish," she said,
with a sob.

"No, dear, no. I understand. I ought to have thought of it before."

She knew that he was thinking of Cinders, and that a return to the old
haunts could but serve to reopen a wound that was scarcely closed. She
was thankful that he interpreted her reluctance thus, even while she
marvelled to herself as she realized how far she had travelled sinc