t into the corridor and Arthur
followed him, a light breaking in upon the confusion of his mind.

"They told Bolla I'd betrayed him? Of course they did! Why, man, they
told me he had betrayed me. Surely Bolla isn't fool enough to believe
that sort of stuff?"

"Then it really isn't true?" Enrico stopped at the foot of the stairs
and looked searchingly at Arthur, who merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Of course it's a lie."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it, my lad, and I'll tell him you said so. But
you see what they told him was that you had denounced him out of--well,
out of jealousy, because of your both being sweet on the same girl."

"It's a lie!" Arthur repeated the words in a quick, breathless whisper.
A sudden, paralyzing fear had come over him. "The same girl--jealousy!"
How could they know--how could they know?

"Wait a minute, my lad." Enrico stopped in the corridor leading to the
interrogation room, and spoke softly. "I believe you; but just tell me
one thing. I know you're a Catholic; did you ever say anything in the
confessional------"

"It's a lie!" This time Arthur's voice had risen to a stifled cry.

Enrico shrugged his shoulders and moved on again. "You know best, of
course; but you wouldn't be the only young fool that's been taken in
that way. There's a tremendous ado just now about a priest in Pisa that
some of your friends have found out. They've printed a leaflet saying
he's a spy."

He opened the door of the interrogation room, and, seeing that Arthur
stood motionless, staring blankly before him, pushed him gently across
the threshold.

"Good-afternoon, Mr. Burton," said the colonel, smiling and showing his
teeth amiably. "I have great pleasure in congratulating you. An order
for your release has arrived from Florence. Will you kindly sign this
paper?"

Arthur went up to him. "I want to know," he said in a dull voice, "who
it was that betrayed me."

The colonel raised his eyebrows with a smile.

"Can't you guess? Think a minute."

Arthur shook his head. The colonel put out both hands with a gesture of
polite surprise.

"Can't guess? Really? Why, you yourself, Mr. Burton. Who else could know
your private love affairs?"

Arthur turned away in silence. On the wall hung a large wooden crucifix;
and his eyes wandered slowly to its face; but with no appeal in them,
only a dim wonder at this supine and patient God that had no thunderbolt
for a priest who betrayed the confessional.

"Will yo