turned to Sara's face inquiringly.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked. "Is--cleaning gates the latest form
of war-work?"

Sara, her face scarlet, answered reluctantly.

"I didn't want you to see it."

A curious expression flashed into his eyes.

"I saw it--two hours ago."

"And you left it there?"--with amazement.

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?"

And in that moment the long struggle in Sara's heart ended, and she
answered out of the fullness of the faith that was in her.

"No! It is _not_ true! I've been a fool to believe it for an instant.
But I'm one no longer. I don't believe it." She paused, then, very
deliberately and steadily, she put her question.

"Garth--tell me, were you ever guilty of cowardice?"

"The court-martial thought so."

Sara's foot tapped impatiently on the ground.

"Please answer my question," she said quickly.

But he remained unmoved.

"Elisabeth Durward has surely supplied you with all the information on
that subject which you require," he said in expressionless tones, and
Sara was conscious anew of the maddening feeling of impotence with which
a contest of wills between herself and Garth never failed to imbue her.

"Garth"--there was appeal in her voice, yet it was still very steady and
determined--"I want to know what _you_ say about it. What Elisabeth--or
any one else--may say, doesn't matter any longer."

Something in the quiet depth of emotion in her voice momentarily broke
through his guard. He made an involuntary movement towards her, then
checked himself, and, with an effort, resumed his former detached
manner.

"More important than anything either I, or Elisabeth, can say, is the
verdict of the court," he answered.

The deadly calm of his voice ripped away her last remnant of composure.

"The verdict of the court!" she burst out. "_Damn_ the verdict of the
court!"

"I have done--many a time!"--bitterly.

"Garth," she came a step nearer to him and her sombre eyes blazed into
his. "I _will_ have an answer! For God's sake, don't fence with me
any longer! . . . There have been misunderstandings enough, reticences
enough, between us. For this once, let us be honest with each other. I
pretended I didn't care--I pretended I could go on living, believing you
to be what--what they have called you. And I can't! . . . I can't go
on. . . . I can't bear it any longer. You must answer me! _Were you
guilty?_"

He was white to the lips by the time she had finished, and h