"No, sir."

There was not the slightest hesitation in the reply, but Judithe turned her eyes on the woman with unusual interest. Colonel McVeigh consulted his notes.

"Miss Loring distinctively heard the rustle of a woman's dress as her door opened; did you hear that?"

"No, sir."

"You saw no one and heard no one?"

"No one."

There was a pause, during which he regarded the woman very sharply.

Judithe arose.

"Only your sister or myself could have been in that corridor without pa.s.sing Miss Loring's door; is Miss Loring suspicious of us?--Miss Loring!"--and her tone was beyond her control, indignant; of all others, Miss Loring! "Margeret, whatever you saw, whatever you heard in that corridor, you must tell Colonel McVeigh--tell him!"

Margeret turned a calm glance towards her for a moment, and quietly said, "I have told him, Madame Caron; there was no one in the corridor."

"Very well; that is all I wanted to know." His words were intended for dismissal, but she only bent her head and walked back to the window, as Masterson entered with Monroe. The latter bowed to Judithe with more than usual ceremony, but did not speak. Then he turned a nonchalant glance towards McVeigh, and waited. The Colonel looked steadily at Judithe as he said:

"Captain Monroe, did you know Madame Caron before you met her in my house? You do not answer! Madame Caron, may I ask you if you knew Captain Monroe previous to yesterday?"

"Quite well," she replied, graciously; there was almost an air of bravado in her glance. She had meant to tell him all; had begged him to listen, but since he preferred to question her before these men, and at the probable suggestion of Miss Loring--well!

Masterson drew a breath of relief as she spoke. His Colonel must now exonerate him of any unfounded suspicions; but Monroe regarded her with somber, disapproving eyes.

"Then," and his tone chilled her; it has in it such a suggestion of what justice he would mete out to her when he knew all; "then I am, under the circ.u.mstances, obliged to ask why you acknowledged the introduction given by Miss Loring?"

"Oh, for the blunder of that I was accountable, Monsieur," and she smiled at him, frankly, the combative spirit fully awake, now, since he chose to question her--_her_!--before the others, "I should have explained, perhaps--I believe I meant to, but there was conversation, and I probably forgot."

"I see! You forgot to explain, and Captain Monroe forgot you were acquainted when he was questioned, just now."

"Captain Monroe could not possibly forget the honor of such acquaintance," retorted Monroe; "he only refused to answer."

The two men met each other's eyes for an instant--a glance like the crossing of swords. Then McVeigh said:

"Where did you get the picture found on your person last night?"

"Stole it," said Monroe, calmly, and McVeigh flushed in quick anger at the evident lie and the insolence of it; he was lying then to shield this woman who stood between them--to shield her from her husband.

"Madame Caron," and she had never before heard him speak in that tone; "did you ever give Captain Monroe a picture of yourself?"

"Never!" she said, wonderingly. Margeret had taken a step forward and stood irresolutely as though about to speak; she was very pale, and Monroe knew in an instant who she was--not by the picture, but from Pluto's story last night. The terror in her eyes touched him, and as McVeigh lifted the picture from the table, he spoke.

"Colonel McVeigh, I will ask you to study that picture carefully before you take for granted that it is the face of any one you know,"

he said, quietly; "that picture was made probably twenty years ago."

"And the woman?"

"The woman is dead--died long ago." Margeret's eyes closed for an instant, but none of them noticed her. Judithe regarded Monroe, questioningly, and then turned to McVeigh:

"May I not see this picture you speak of, since--"

But Monroe in two strides was beside the table where it lay.

"Colonel McVeigh, even a prisoner of war should be granted some consideration, and all I ask of you is to show the article in question to no one without first granting me a private interview."

Again the eyes of the men met and the sincerity, the appeal of Monroe impressed McVeigh; something might be gained by conceding the request--something lost by refusing it, and he slipped the case into his pocket without even looking at Judithe, or noticing her question.

But Monroe looked at her, and noted the quick resentment at his speech.

"Pardon, Madame," he said, gently; "my only excuse is that there is a lady in the question."

"A lady who is no longer living?" she asked, mockingly. She was puzzled over the affair of the picture, puzzled at the effect it had on McVeigh. In some way he was jealous concerning it--jealous, how absurd, when she adored him!

Monroe only looked at her, but did not reply to the sceptical query.

Gertrude Loring came to the door just then and spoke to McVeigh, who went to meet her. She wanted him to go at once to her uncle. He was trying so hard to speak; they thought he was endeavoring to say "Ken--Ken!" It was the only tangible thing they could distinguish, and he watched the door continually as though for someone's entrance.

McVeigh a.s.sured her he would go directly, but she begged him to postpone all the other business--anything! and to come with her at once; he might be dying, he looked like it, and there certainly was _some_ one whom he wanted; therefore--

He turned with a semi-apologetic manner to the others in the room.

"I shall return presently, and will then continue the investigation,"

he said, addressing Masterson; "pending such action Captain Monroe can remain here."

Then he closed the door and followed Gertrude.

Judithe arose at that calm ignoring of herself and moved to the table. She guessed what it was the dying man was trying to tell Kenneth--well, she would tell him first!

Pen and paper were there and she commenced to write, interrupting herself to turn to Masterson, who was looking out at the storm.

"Is there any objection to Captain Monroe holding converse with other--guests in the house?" she asked, with a little ironical smile.

Masterson hesitated, and then said: "I do not think a private interview could be allowed, but--"

"A private interview is not necessary," she said, coolly. "You can remain where you are. Margeret, also, can remain." She wrote a line or two, and then spoke without looking up, "Will you be so kind, Captain Monroe, as to come over to the table?"

"At your service, my lady."

He did so, and remained standing there, with his hands clasped behind him, a curious light of expectancy in his eyes.

"You have endured everything but death for me since last night," she said, looking up at him. She spoke so low Masterson could not hear it above the beat of the rain on the window. But he could see the slight bend of Monroe's head and the smile with which he said:

"Well--since it was for you!"

"Oh, do not jest now, and do not think I shall allow it to go on," she said, appealingly. "I have been waiting for help, but I shall wait no longer;" she pointed to the paper on the table, "Colonel McVeigh will have a written statement of who did the work just as soon as I can write it, and you shall be freed."

"Take care!" he said, warningly; "an avowal now might only incriminate you--not free me. There are complications you can't be told--"