t was coming." She stood in front of her brother.
"Out with it, old boy! Tell me the worst at once. Is he dying? Has
he been murdered? I can bear anything except suspense."

"It's something uglier than death, Meg."

"Treachery?"

"Yes, treachery." Freddy thought that Meg meant treachery on her
lover's part. She had thought of treachery from enemies. Had some one
forestalled Michael with the treasure?

He paused. What could he tell her next?

"Oh, go on!" Meg cried. "For heaven's sake, don't spare me! A woman
can stand almost anything, Freddy, anything but uncertainty."

"Can she stand unfaithfulness, Meg, dishonour?" Freddy's eyes dropped.
He could not inflict upon himself the pain which Meg's trusting eyes
would cause him.

A cry rang through the room. "No, not that, not that! Go on, go
on--what more?" As she spoke, she threw up her head. "It's a lie,
Freddy, a hideous lie!"

"I'm afraid there must be some truth in the story, Meg." Freddy's voice
was terrible. It conveyed his reluctant, yet absolute, belief that her
lover was guilty. Before he had finished speaking, another cry rang
through the room. It startled Freddy with its intensity, its rage and
independence.

"I tell you it's a lie! It's not true! And what's more, until I hear
it from his own lips, I will never believe a word of the scandal."

"Poor old chum!" Freddy tried to comfort her with the assurance of his
sympathy.

Meg flashed round upon him. "Don't pity me! Don't dare to pity me!
It's all the basest treachery. I'll have no pity. I don't need it!"

Freddy was silent. It was like Meg not to cry or collapse, as most
girls would have done. She was fighting splendidly for her man, whose
honour was dearer to her than his life. He wished that Michael could
have been there to see her, unworthy though he apparently was of such
unwavering loyalty.

"What is this report?" she asked. Her cheeks were as white as a
blanched almond; her eyes splendidly alight. The excitement of battle
vitalized her. Margaret was beautiful in her wrath.

"I have heard it from several sources that Millicent Mervill joined
Michael in the desert, that she now forms part of his camp, that she
is, in fact, your lover's mistress. I can't have it, chum."

"It's a lie! How can you believe it? A hideous, abominable lie! It's
contemptible of you to listen to it, to give it a moment's
consideration." She shivered. "Oh, these filthy native