m afraid. But you see how it is? And now you
know the truth, have guessed something of it, you will see that I have
either to face the music, plead guilty to the charge and go to prison,
or get out of it by the only way."

It was she who hid her face now. He saw that she was trembling; he knew
that she was struggling with her tears; he went round to her and laid
his hand on her shoulder, very gently, almost reverently. "Don't cry,"
he said. "I'm not worth it. I am sorry you should be so distressed. I
wish--for your sake, now--that you had not come in. Hadn't you better go
now?"

Celia rose; her cheeks were wet, her lips were quivering.

"What--what will you do?" she asked, fighting with a sob.

He met her eyes moodily. Celia held her breath; then, with a sudden
tightening of the lips, a flash of the eyes, he said, grimly, as if
every word cost him an effort,

"I will face it."

With a gasp of relief, and yet with infinite pity and sorrow in her
eyes, she flung out both hands to him.

He took them in his, which were burning now, and gripped them tightly.

"My God! what a woman you are," he said, with a sudden uplifting of the
brows. "Someone else will find that out some day."

Celia drew her hands away and moved to the door. As he opened it for
her, his glance fell on the revolver she had laid on the table.

"You have forgotten," he said, with a mirthless smile. "Hadn't you
better take it with you?"

She looked straight into his eyes, not in doubt, but with infinite trust
and confidence.

"No," she said; and with the word, she passed out.

CHAPTER III

Celia went back to her room and sank into a chair. She had been upheld
during the scene by the excitement and the strain; she had been strong
and purposeful a few minutes ago; but now the reaction had set in and
she felt weak and exhausted. It was difficult to realize that the thing
was real; it was the first time in her life that anything dramatic,
tragical, had touched her. She had read of such incidents in novels, and
even then, presented in the guise of fiction, with all its licence, such
a self-sacrifice, so absolutely illogical and immoral, had seemed
incredible to her; and yet here was a case, under her very eyes.

When she was able to think clearly, one or two points in the affair
stood out from the rest. If the forgery was detected, and the young man
under suspicion, how was it that he was still free, still unarrested?
Perhaps they had n