k the door--you dared! Give me the key this instant."

"I refuse."

"Very well! You have heard my voice; you shall hear it again!"

Her pale lips made the perfect round, her grand teeth gleamed in the
electric light.

He arrested her, not with violence, but a shrug.

"I shall jump out of the window and break my neck. They don't take me
twice--alive."

She glared at him in anger and contempt. He meant it. Then let him do
it. Her eyes told him all that; but as they flashed, stabbing him, their
expression altered, and in a trice her ear was to the keyhole.

"Something has happened," she whispered, turning a scared face up to
him. "I hear your name. They have traced you here. They are coming! Oh!
what are we to do?"

He strode over to the door.

"If you fear a scandal I can give myself up this moment and explain
all."

He spoke eagerly. The thought was sudden. She rose up, looking in his
eyes.

"No, you shall not," she said. Her hand flew out behind her, and in two
seconds the brilliant room had click-clicked into a velvet darkness.

"Stand like a mouse," she whispered, and he heard her reach the inner
door, where she stood like another.

Steps and voices came along the landing at a quick crescendo.

"Miss Bouverie! Miss Bouverie! Miss Bouverie!"

It was his Excellency's own gay voice. And it continued until with much
noise Miss Bouverie flung her bedroom door wide open, put on the light
within, ran across the boudoir, put on the boudoir light, and stooped to
parley through the keyhole.

"The bushranger Stingaree has been traced to Government House."

"Good heavens!"

"One of your windows was seen open."

"He had not come in through it."

"Then you were heard raising your voice."

"That was to my maid. This is all through her. I don't know how to tell
you, but she leaves me in the morning. Yes, yes, there was a man, but it
was not Stingaree. I saw him myself through coming up early, but I let
him go as he had come, to save a fuss."

"Through the window?"

"I am so ashamed!"

"Not a bit, Miss Bouverie. I am ashamed of bothering you. Confound the
police!"

When the voices and steps had died away, Hilda Bouverie turned to
Stingaree, her whole face shining, her deep blue eyes alight.

"There!" said she. "Could you have done that better yourself?"

"Not half so well."

"And you thought I could forget!"

"I thought nothing. I only came to you in my scrape."

After years of imprisonment he