u've got friends near you. And I--we're
such old friends, I couldn't help trying as hard as I could for a sight
of you to--to cheer you up, and--and to help you, if that's possible."

I spoke very fast, not daring to look at him after the first, but
pretending to smooth out some wrinkles in one of my long gloves. My eyes
were full of tears, and I was afraid they'd go splashing down my cheeks,
if I even winked my lashes. I loved him more than ever now, and felt
capable of forgiving him anything, if only I had the chance to forgive,
and if only, _only_ he really loved me and not that other.

"Thank you, a hundred times--more than I can express," he said, with a
faint quiver in his voice--his beautiful voice, which was the first
thing that charmed me after knowing him. "It _does_ cheer me to see you.
It gives me strength and courage. You wouldn't have come if you
didn't--trust me, and believe me innocent."

"Why, of course, I--we--believe you innocent of any crime," I faltered.

"And of any lack of faith?"

"Oh, as for that, how can--but don't let's speak of that. What can it
matter now?"

"It matters more than anything else in the world. If only you could say
that you will have faith!"

"I'll try to say it then, if it can give you any comfort."

"Not unless you mean it."

"Then--I'll try to mean it. Will that satisfy you?"

"It's better than nothing. And I thank you again. As for the rest,
you're not to be anxious. Everything will come right for me sooner or
later, though I may have to suffer some annoyances first."

"Annoyances?" I echoed. "If there were nothing worse!"

"There won't be. I shall be well defended. It will all be shown up as a
huge mistake--another warning against trusting to circumstantial
evidence."

"Is there nothing we can do then? Or--that we would urge _others_ to
do?" I asked, hoping he would understand that I meant _one_
other--Maxine de Renzie.

I guessed by his look that he did understand. It was a look of gloom;
but suddenly a light flashed in his eyes.

"There is one thing _you_ could do for me--you and no one else," he
said. "But I have no right to ask it."

"Tell me what it is," I implored.

"I would not, if it didn't mean more than my life to me." He hesitated,
and then, while I wondered what was to come, he bent forward and spoke a
few hurried words in Spanish. He knew that to me Spanish was almost as
familiar as English. He had heard me talk of the Spanish customs stil