parents, and--marry you?"

He stared, round-eyed and hurt, like a misunderstood child. "But," he
blundered on, "don't you see it's the only thing you can do--anyhow, to
marry me? If you won't accept money, why it's a pity and a waste, but I
want you enough to snap you up without a franc. You must marry me, dear.
Think what I gave up for you!"

I burst out laughing. "What you gave up for me!"

"Yes. Have you forgotten already? If I hadn't fallen in love with you at
first sight, and sacrificed myself and Dierdre for your good, wouldn't
my sister have been in your place now, and you and your brother Lord
knows where--in prison as impostors, perhaps?"

"According to you, my place isn't a very enviable one at present," I
said. "But I'd rather be in prison for life than married to you. What a
vision--what a couple!"

"Oh, I know having you for my wife would be a good deal like going to
heaven in a strong mustard plaster; but I'd stand the smart for the sake
of the bliss. If you won't marry me and if you won't take money from the
Becketts, what will become of you? That's what I want to know! You can't
stay on with them. You daren't risk going to their Chateau d'Andelle, as
things are turning out. Herter's certainly in Germany--ideal man for a
spy! If he runs across Jim Beckett, as he's trying to do, he'll move
heaven and earth to help him escape. He must have influence, and secret
ways of working things. He may have got at Jim before this for all we
can tell. Muller let it leak out that he left Herter--somewhere--a week
ago. A lot can happen in a week--to a Wandering Jew. The ground's
trembling under your feet. You'll have to skip without Brian, without
money, without----"

"I shall not stir," I said. "I can't leave Mrs. Beckett, I won't leave
her! The only way I can atone even a little bit, is to stop and take
care of her while she needs me, no matter what happens. When she finds
out, she won't want me any longer. Then I'll go. But not before."

We glared at each other like two fencers through the veil of falling
dusk. Suddenly I sprang up from the bench, remembering that, at least, I
could escape from Julian, if not from the sword of Damocles. But he
caught my dress, and held me fast.

"What if I tell the old birds the whole story up to date?" he blustered.
"I can, you know."

"You can. Please give me fair warning if you're going to--that's all I
ask. I'll try to prepare Mrs. Beckett's mind to bear the shock. She'