o him?" Her eyes were still dilated, but they did not waver from
his.

"To go to him." He repeated the words with precision, and waited for her
answer.

But Chris sat in silence, her hands in Jack's.

"Look here," Noel broke in abruptly, "if Chris goes, I go."

"Very well," Mordaunt said. "If Chris desires it, you may."

Chris came out of her silence with a little shudder, and turned to the
man beside her. "Jack, tell me what to do!"

"I think you had better go, dear," Jack said.

"But if--but if--oh, is he very ill?" She looked again at her husband.

"He is very ill indeed," Mordaunt said.

"You think I ought to go?" She asked the question with an obvious effort.

"I have come to fetch you," he said.

"Then--he is dying!" she said, with sudden conviction.

Mordaunt was silent.

Abruptly she left Jack and went up to him. "Trevor," she said, "would you
want to take me to him if--if--"

"If--?" he repeated quietly.

"If you thought I was doing wrong to go?"

He made a slight movement, as if the question were unexpected. "I should
have explained to you," he said, "that your brother Max is in charge of
him, so that when I am not with you--and, as you know, I am attending the
Rodolphe trial--you will not be alone."

"Oh, Max is there!" she said, with relief. "But what is he doing at
Valpre?"

"He went there with Bertrand."

"But I thought Bertrand could not go to France," she hazarded.

"He went in disguise."

"Why?" Her lips trembled upon the word.

"Because he had something to say to me." With the utmost calmness his
answer came.

"Ah!" She started and turned so white that he put out a hand to steady
her.

She laid her own within it, as it were instinctively, because she needed
support.

"What was it?" she whispered.

He looked at her gravely. "Are you afraid to be alone with me?" he said.

"No."

"Then--quick march!" said Jack, with his hand through Noel's arm.

They went out together, Noel glancing back for the smallest sign from his
sister to remain.

But she made none. She stood quite still, with her hand in her husband's,
waiting.

As the door closed Mordaunt spoke. "Have you been ill?"

"No," she said faintly. "Not--not really ill."

She was aware of his close scrutiny for a moment, but she made not the
slightest attempt to meet it.

"You want to know what Bertrand said to me," he said. "And you have a
right to know. He told me the whole history of your friendship from th