suddenly she clapped both hands to her mouth. "Ah--h! What am I saying?
Garth! . . . Garth! . . ."

She stumbled to her feet, her white, ravaged face turned for a moment
yearningly towards Far End, where it stood bathed in the mocking morning
sunlight. Then she spun half-round, groping for support, and fell in a
crumpled heap on the floor.

When Sara came to herself again, she was lying on the bed in Elisabeth's
room at the hotel. Some one had drawn the blinds, shutting out the crude
glare of the sunlight, and in the semi-darkness she could feel soft
hands about her, bathing her face with something fragrantly cool and
refreshing. She opened her eyes and looked up to find Elisabeth's face
bent over her--unspeakably kind and tender, like that of some Madonna
brooding above her child.

"Are you feeling better?" The sweet, familiar voice roused her to the
realization of what had happened. It was the same voice that, before
unconsciousness had wrapped her in its merciful oblivion, had been
pouring into her ears an unbelievably hideous story--a nightmare tale of
what had happened at some far distant Indian outpost.

The details of the story seemed to be all jumbled confusedly together in
Sara's mind, but, as gradually full consciousness returned, they began
to sort themselves and fall into their rightful places, and all at once,
with a swift and horrible contraction of her heart, the truth knocked at
the door of memory.

She struggled up on to her elbow, her eyes frantically appealing.

"Elisabeth, was it true? Was it--all true?"

In an instant Elisabeth's hand closed round hers.

"My dear, you must try and face it. And"--her voice shook a little--"you
must try and forgive me for telling you. But I couldn't let you marry
Garth Trent in ignorance, could I?"

"Then it is true? Garth was court-martialled and--and cashiered?" Sara
sank back against her pillows. Still, deep within her, there flickered
a faint spark of hope. Against all reason, against all common sense the
faith that was within her fought against accepting the bitter knowledge
that Garth was guilty of what was in her eyes the one unpardonable sin.

Unpardonable! The word started a new and overwhelming train of thought.
She remembered that she had told Garth she did not care what sin he had
been guilty of, had forced him to believe that nothing could make any
difference to her love for him, to her willingness to become his wife,
and share his burden.