sion of entreaty.

As she leaned towards him, a tremor seemed to run through his entire
body--the tremor of leaping muscles straining against the leash. His
hands clenched slowly, the nails biting into the bruised flesh. Then
he spoke, and his voice was ringing and assured--arrogantly so. The
tortured soul within him had been beaten back once more into its
prison-house.

"I was quite in my right senses--that night on the Frontier--never more
so, believe me"--and his lips twisted in a curious, enigmatical smile.
"And as far as explanations--excuses--are concerned, the court-martial
made all that were possible. I--I was not shot, you see!"

There was something outrageous in the open derision of the last words.
He flung them at her--as though taunting, gibing at the impulse to
compassion which had swayed her, sending her tremulously towards him
with imploring, outstretched hands.

"The quality of mercy was not strained in the least," he continued. "It
fell around me like the proverbial gentle rain. I've quite a lot to be
thankful for, don't you think?"--brutally.

"I--I don't know what to think!" she burst out. "That you--_you_ should
fall so low--so shamefully low."

"A man will do a good deal to preserve a whole skin, you know," he
suggested hardily.

"Why do you speak like that?" she demanded in sharpened tones. "Do you
want me to think worse of you than I do already?"

He took a step towards her and stood looking down at her with those
bright, hard eyes.

"Yes, I do," he said decidedly. "I want you to think as badly of me as
you possibly can. I want you to realize just what sort of a blackguard
you had promised to marry, and when you've got that really clear in
your mind, you'll be able to forget all about me and marry some cheerful
young fool who hasn't been kicked out of the Army."

"As long as I live I shall never--be able--to forget that I loved--a
coward." The words came haltingly from her lips. Then suddenly her
shaking hands went up to her face, as though to shut him from her sight,
and a dry, choking sob tore its way through her throat.

He made a swift stride towards her, then checked himself and stood
motionless once more, in the utter quiescence of deliberately arrested
movement. Only his hands, hanging stiffly at his sides, opened and shut
convulsively, and his eyes should have been hidden. God never meant any
man's eyes to wear that look of unspeakable torment.

When at last Sara withdrew he