de.
And, awaiting that decision, he stood there, silent, like a man
considering. And then, because no woman's voice broke the silence to
proclaim at once his innocence, and the alibi that must ensure his
acquittal, he spoke at last.

"I thank you, sir. Indeed, I am very grateful to the court for the
consideration it has shown me. I appreciate it deeply, but I have
nothing more to say."

And then, when all seemed lost, a woman's voice rang out at last:

"But I have!"

Its sharp, almost strident note acted like an electric discharge upon
the court; but no member of the assembly was more deeply stricken than
Captain Tremayne. For though the voice was a woman's, yet it was not the
voice for which he had been waiting.

In his excitement he turned, to see Miss Armytage standing there,
straight and stiff, her white face stamped with purpose; and beside
her, still seated, clutching her arm in an agony of fear, Lady O'Moy,
murmuring for all to hear her:

"No, no, Sylvia. Be silent, for God's sake!"

But Sylvia had risen to speak, and speak she did, and though the words
she uttered were such as a virgin might wish to whisper with veiled
countenance and averted glance, yet her utterance of them was bold to
the point of defiance.

"I can tell you why Captain Tremayne is silent. I can tell you whom he
shields."

"Oh God!" gasped Lady O'Moy, wondering through her anguish how Sylvia
could have become possessed of her secret.

"Miss Armytage--I implore you!" cried Tremayne, forgetting where he
stood, his voice shaking at last, his hand flung out to silence her.

And then the heavy voice of O'Moy crashed in:

"Let her speak. Let us have the truth--the truth!" And he smote the
table with his clenched fist.

"And you shall have it," answered Miss Armytage. "Captain Tremayne keeps
silent to shield a woman--his mistress."

Sir Terence sucked in his breath with a whistling sound. Lady O'Moy
desisted from her attempts to check the speaker and fell to staring at
her in stony astonishment, whilst Tremayne was too overcome by the
same emotion to think of interrupting. The others preserved a watchful,
unbroken silence.

"Captain Tremayne spent that half-hour at Monsanto in her room. He was
with her when he heard the cry that took him to the window. Thence he
saw the body in the courtyard, and in alarm went down at once--without
considering the consequences to the woman. But because he has considered
them since, he now keeps s