ll love me. Tell me. Is there----?"

Kate shook her head, and the man dropped her hand with a gesture of
utter hopelessness.

"My love is given, Charlie. Believe me, I have not given it. It--it is
simply gone from me."

Kate sighed. Then her mood changed again. That sharp alert look came
into her eyes once more.

"Tell me--of to-morrow," she urged him.

The second demand had a pronounced effect upon Charlie. The air of the
suppliant fell from him, even the signs of his recent debauch seemed
to give way before a startling alertness of mentality. In his curious
way he seemed suddenly to have become the man of action, full of a
keenness of perception and shrewdness which might well have carried an
added conviction to Stanley Fyles, had he witnessed the display.

"Listen," he said, with a thrill of excitement. "Maybe it's not
necessary to tell you. Maybe it's stale news. Anyway, to-morrow is to
be the day of Fyles's coup." He paused, watching for the effect of his
words.

Just for an instant the woman's eyes flashed, but whether in fear, or
merely excited interest, it would have been impossible to say.

"Go on," she said.

"To-morrow the village is to be surrounded by a chain of police
patrols. Every entry will be closely watched for the incoming cargo of
whisky. Fyles reckons to get me red-handed."

"You?"

Kate's eyes flashed again.

"Sure. That's how he reckons."

They looked into each other's eyes steadily. Charlie's were lit by a
curious baffling irony.

It was finally Charlie who spoke.

"Fyles's plans are not likely to disconcert--anybody. There is no fear
of legitimate capture. It is treachery--that is to be feared."

Kate started.

"Treachery?"

The man nodded. And the woman gave a sharp exclamation of disgust.

"Treachery! I hate it. I despise it. I--I could kill a traitor.
You--fear treachery?"

"I have been warned of it. That's all," he said, in a hard biting
voice. "It is because of this I've come to you to-night. Who can tell
the outcome of to-morrow if there's treachery? So I came to you to
make my--last appeal." In a moment his passion was blazing forth
again. "Say the word, dear. Forget this man. Give me one little grain
of hope. We can leave this place, and all the treachery in the world
doesn't matter. We can leave that, and everything else, behind
us--forever."

Kate shook her head. It almost seemed as though his pleading had
passed her by.

"It can't be," she said, almost