Stewart and ate
ravenously. He had had nothing since the morning's coffee. After that he
sat down again by the bed to watch. There was little to do but watch.

The meal had made him drowsy. He thought of his pipe. Perhaps if he got
some fresh air and a smoke! He remembered the balcony.

It was there on the balcony that he found Marie, a cowering thing that
pushed his hands away when he would have caught her and broke into
passionate crying.

"I cannot! I cannot!"

"Cannot what?" demanded Peter gently, watching her. So near was the
balcony rail!

"Throw myself over. I've tried, Peter. I cannot!"

"I should think not!" said Peter sternly. "Just now when we need you,
too! Come in and don't be a foolish child."

But Marie would not go in. She held back, clinging tight to Peter's big
hand, moaning out in the dialect of the people that always confused him
her story of the day, of what she had done, of watching Stewart brought
back, of stealing into the house and through an adjacent room to the
balcony, of her desperation and her cowardice.

She was numb with cold, exhaustion, and hunger, quite childish,
helpless. Peter stood out on the balcony with his arm round her, while
the night wind beat about them, and pondered what was best to do. He
thought she might come in and care for Stewart, at least, until he was
conscious. He could get her some supper.

"How can I?" she asked. "I was seen. They are searching for me now. Oh,
Peter! Peter!"

"Who is searching for you? Who saw you?"

"The people in the Russian villa."

"Did they see your face?"

"I wore a veil. I think not."

"Then come in and change your clothes. There is a train down at
midnight. You can take it."

"I have no money."

This raised a delicate question. Marie absolutely refused to take
Stewart's money. She had almost none of her own. And there were other
complications--where was she to go? The family of the injured girl did
not suspect her since they did not know of her existence. She might get
away without trouble. But after that, what?

Peter pondered this on the balcony, while Marie in the bedroom was
changing her clothing, soaked with a day in the snow. He came to the
inevitable decision, the decision he knew at the beginning that he was
going to make.

"If I could only put it up to Harmony first!" he reflected. "But she
will understand when I tell her. She always understands."

Standing there on the little balcony, with tragedy the t