ct of the court-martial was wrong," she said
swiftly. "There was some horrible mistake. I am sure of it--I know it!
Garth!"--after a moment's pause--"are you going to tell me everything? I
have the right to know--haven't I?--now that I'm going to be your wife."

She felt the clasp of his arms relax, and, looking up quickly, she
saw his face suddenly revert to its old lines of weariness. Slowly,
reluctantly, he drew away from her.

"Garth!" There was a shrilling note of apprehension in her voice.
"Garth! What is it? Why do you look like that?"

It was a full minute before he answered. When he did, he spoke heavily,
as one who knows that his next words will dash all the joy out of life.

"Because," he said quietly, "I can no more tell you anything now than I
could before. I can't clear myself, Sara!"

Her eyes were fixed on his.

"Do you mean--you will _never_ be able to?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, I mean that."

"Answer me one more question, Garth. Is it that you _cannot_--or _will
not_ clear yourself?"

"I _must_ not," he replied steadily. "I am not the only one concerned
in the matter. There is some one to whom I owe it to be silent. Honour
forbids that I should even try to clear myself. Now you know all--all
that I can ever tell you."

"Who is it?" The question leaped from her, and Garth's answer came with
an irrevocability of refusal there was no combating.

"That I cannot tell you--or any one."

Sara's mouth twitched. Her face was very white, but her eyes were
shining.

"And you have borne this--all these years?" she said. "You have known
that you could clear yourself and have refrained?"

"There was no choice," he answered quietly. "I took on a certain
liability--years ago, and because it has turned out to be a much heavier
liability than I anticipated gives me no excuse for repudiating it now."

For a moment Sara hid her face in her hands. When she uncovered it again
there was something almost akin to awe in her eyes.

"Will you ever forgive me, Garth, for doubting you?" she whispered.

"Forgive you?" He smiled. "What else could you have done, sweetheart? I
don't know, even now, why you believe in me," he added wonderingly.

"Just because--" she began, and fell silent, realizing that her belief
had no reason, but was founded on the intuitive knowledge of a love that
has suffered and won out on the other side.

When next she spoke it was with the simple, frank directness
characteristic