o a firing party--or to a court-martial which will inevitably
sentence him to death, no matter what the defence that Dick may urge.
He is a man prejudged, foredoomed by the necessities of war. And Terence
will do this although it will break his heart and ruin all his life.
Understand me, then, that in enjoining you never to allow Terence to
suspect that Dick is present, I am pleading not so much for you or for
Dick, but for Terence himself--for it is upon Terence that the hardest
and most tragic suffering must fall. Now do you understand?"

"I understand that men are very stupid," was her way of admitting it.

"And you see that you were wrong in judging Terence as you did?"

"I--I suppose so."

She didn't understand it all. But since Tremayne was so insistent she
supposed there must be something in his point of view. She had been
brought up in the belief that Ned Tremayne was common sense incarnate;
and although she often doubted it--as you may doubt the dogmas of a
religion in which you have been bred--yet she never openly rebelled
against that inculcated faith. Above all she wanted to cry. She knew
that it would be very good for her. She had often found a singular
relief in tears when vexed by things beyond her understanding. But she
had to think of that flock of gallants in the ballroom waiting to pay
court to her and of her duty towards them of preserving her beauty
unimpaired by the ravages of a vented sorrow.

Tremayne sat down beside her. "So now that we understand each other on
that score, let us consider ways and means to dispose of Dick."

At once she was uplifted and became all eagerness.

"Yes, Yes. You will help me, Ned?"

"You can depend upon me to do all in human power."

He thought rapidly, and gave voice to some of his thoughts. "If I could
I would take him to my lodgings at Alcantara. But Carruthers knows him
and would see him there. So that is out of the question. Then again
it is dangerous to move him about. At any moment he might be seen and
recognised."

"Hardly recognised," she said. "His beard disguises him, and his
dress--" She shuddered at the very thought of the figure he had cut, he,
the jaunty, dandy Richard Butler.

"That is something, of course," he agreed. And then asked: "How long do
you think that you could keep him hidden?"

"I don't know. You see, there's Bridget. She is the only danger, as she
has charge of my dressing-room."

"It may be desperate, but--Can you trust h