d that the work had been only of the
brother's doings. He had hoped that she had come bearing Hervey's
accusation and not her own.

"Go on," he said.

"I know you for what you really are, George Iredale. And now I have
come to you to give you the chance of defending yourself. No man must
be condemned without a hearing. Neither shall you. The evidence
against you is overwhelming; I can see no escape for you. But speak,
if you have anything to say in your defence, and I will listen. I
charge you with the murder of Leslie Grey."

Just for one brief moment Iredale felt a shiver pass through his body.
The icy tones of the girl's voice, the seemingly dispassionate words
filled him with a horror unspeakable. Then he pulled himself together.
He was on his defence before the one person in the world from whose
condemnation he shrank. He did not answer at once. He wished to make
no mistake. When at last he spoke his words came slowly as though he
weighed well each syllable before he gave it utterance.

"With one exception all that Hervey has doubtless said of me is true.
I am a smuggler; I inspired that line in the paper; but I am
no--murderer. Leslie Grey's life was sacred to me at the time if only
for the reason that he was your affianced husband. I loved you at that
time as I have loved you for years, and all my thoughts and wishes
were for your happiness. It would have made you happy to have married
Grey, therefore I wished that you should marry him. I am quite
unchanged. I will tell you now what neither you nor Hervey knows, even
though it makes my case look blacker. I knew that Grey was on my
track. I knew that he had discovered my secret. How he had done so I
cannot say. He quarrelled with me, and, in the heat of his anger, told
me of his intentions. It was late one night at a card-party at your
house, and just before he was so foully murdered. No doubt you, or any
right-minded person for that matter, will say that this evidence only
clinches the case against me. But, in spite of it, I assert my
innocence. Amongst my many sins the crime Hervey charges me with"--he
purposely avoided associating the charge with her--"is not numbered.
Can I hope that you will believe me?"

The gentle tones in which the burly man spoke, the earnest fearlessness
which looked out from his quiet eyes, gave infinite weight to all he
said. Prudence shook her head slowly, but the fire in her eyes was
less bright, and the voice of her own heart