ffer to go?" she asked, incredulously.

"Mademoiselle, he insists."

Her lip began to tremble. She turned toward the window, where the
sea-fog flew past in the rising wind, and stared out across the
immeasurable blackness of the ocean.

Without turning her head she said: "Does he know that it may mean his
death?"

"He has suffered worse for your sake!" I said, bitterly.

"What?" she flashed out, confronting me in an instant.

"You must know that," I said--"three years of hell--prison--utter
ruin! Do you dare deny you have been ignorant of this?"

For a space she stood there, struck speechless; then, "Call him!" she
cried. "Call him, I tell you! Bring him here--I want him here--here
before us both!" She sprang to the door, but I blocked her way.

"I will not have Madame de Vassart know what you did to him!" I said.
"If you want Kelly Eyre, I will call him." And I stepped into the
hallway.

Eyre, passing the long stone corridor, looked up as I beckoned; and
when he entered the tea-room, Sylvia, white as a ghost, met him face
to face.

"Monsieur," she said, harshly, "why did you not come to that
book-store?"

He was silent. His face was answer enough--a terrible answer.

"Monsieur Eyre, speak to me! Is it true? Did they--did you not know
that I made an error--that I _did_ go on Monday at the same hour?"

His haggard face lighted up; she saw it, and caught his hands in
hers.

"Did you think I knew?" she stammered. "Did you think I could do
that? They told me at the _usine_ that you had gone away--I thought
you had forgotten--that you did not care--"

"Care!" he groaned, and bowed his head, crushing her hands over his
face.

Then she broke down, breathless with terror and grief.

"I was not a spy then--truly I was not, Kelly. There was no harm in
me--I only--only asked for the sketches because--because--I cared for
you. I have them now; no soul save myself has ever seen them--even
afterward, when I drifted into intrigue at the Embassy--when everybody
knew that Bismarck meant to force war--everybody except the French
people--I never showed those little sketches! They were--were mine!
Kelly, they were all I had left when you went away--to a
fortress!--and I did not know!--I did not know!"

"Hush!" he groaned. "It is all right--it is all right now."

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes, yes. Don't cry--don't be unhappy--now."

She raised her head and fumbled in her corsage with shaking fingers,
and drew from