t I could hide my heart from her, and that only myself would
suffer. And this I can say with truth: by no word, no look, no action, of
mine were her eyes opened. I was always _le bon frere_ to her, neither
less nor more, until the awakening came. I was always faithful to you,
monsieur. I never forgot that she belonged to you--that she was--the wife
of--my friend."

Something seemed to rise in his throat, and he stopped sharply. A moment
later very slowly he sat down.

"You permit me?" he said. "I am--a little--tired. As you know, I began to
see at last that I could not remain with you. I resolved to go. But the
death of Cinders prevented me. She was in trouble, and she desired me to
stay. I should have grieved her if I had refused. I was wrong, I admit
it. I should have gone then. I should have left her to you. I do not
defend myself. I only beg you to believe that I did not see the danger,
that if I had seen it I would not have remained for a single moment more.
Then came the day at Sandacre, the encounter with Rodolphe. I knew that
evening that something had passed between them; what it was she would not
tell me. I tried to persuade her then to let me tell you the whole truth.
But she was terrified--_la pauvre petite_. She thought that you would be
angry with her. She feared that you would ask questions that she could
not answer. She had kept the secret so long that she dared not reveal
it."

"In short," Mordaunt said, "she was afraid that I should suspect her of
caring for you."

His words were too quiet to sound brutal, but they were wholly without
mercy. Bertrand's hands gripped the arms of his chair, and he winced
visibly.

Yet he answered with absolute candour. "Yes, monsieur. I believe she was.
I believe that it was the beginning of all this trouble. But had I known
that Rodolphe would use his knowledge to extort money from her, I would
not have yielded--no, not one inch--to her importunity. I did not know
it. Christine was afraid of me also. I had fought one duel for her;
perhaps she dreaded another. And so the mischief was done."

"And who told you that she had been blackmailed?" Mordaunt demanded
curtly.

Bertrand made answer without hesitation. "I heard that two days ago from
Max."

"Max?"

"Her brother, Max Wyndham."

"And who told him?"

Bertrand's black brows went up. "I believe it was his cousin Captain
Forest."

"Ah! So he sent you, did he? I might have known he would." For the first
t