won't prevent your talking. Tell me
exactly what happened--it's your only chance; if you don't, we will
wait till your arm is healed, and then hang you here in the middle of
the hut-town. Come, speak out."

"You will spare my life if I tell you?"

"Perhaps: if it is the truth. We shall have means of finding out. But
look sharp!"

In feeble, faltering accents Benito told his story, laying stress on
the villainy of others and making light of the part he had himself
played.

While the provost-marshal was examining the trembling wretch his
assistants had been making a thorough search of the shop. They came
presently to their chief, laden with a number of papers: letters,
passes signed by Gortschakoff, and other documents of a compromising
character, plainly proving that this place had long been the centre of
a cunningly-devised secret correspondence with the enemy.

"There's enough to hang you both, and perhaps others too, at home. As
for you," he turned to Benito, "I will have you removed to the
Balaclava hospital. You will be better looked after there, and we
shall have you under our hands when required. Your accomplice, the
commander-in-chief will deal with, I trust, very summarily; we have
overwhelming proofs of his guilt."

Major Shervinton returned to his office, where the prisoners anxiously
awaited his verdict.

"Take Joe away, and put a double sentry over him. I shall ride over to
headquarters to report the whole case."

"Oh, good, kind, beneficent sir," began Joe, wringing his hands,
"spare me! There no word of truth in all this. I done nothing, I
swear. I unjustly accused. I--"

"March him out," said Shervinton. "Such vermin as you must be
ruthlessly destroyed.

"And the lad, sir?" asked an assistant.

"To be sure; I had forgotten. Well, boy, you have behaved uncommonly
well. What shall we do for you?"

"Nothing," she faltered out, "only save him--save Mr. McKay."

"Mr. McKay! Do you know him? What--when--?" asked Major Shervinton,
greatly surprised at the agonised accents in which Mariquita spoke,
yet more, seeing that her eyes were filled with tears. "Who are you?
Where do you come from?" he went on, examining the little creature
attentively.

He noticed now for the first time the delicate skin, the clear-cut,
regular features, the lustrous, eyes; he remarked the fragile form,
the shy, shrinking manner of the lad, who stood diffidently,
deprecatingly, before him, and he said to himself, "Wh