"I left a friend here," Ambrose said with a bitter smile. "I'd like to see him if he's willing to come."

"Whom do you mean?"

"Simon Grampierre."

The inspector looked grave. "He's under arrest," he said. "I can't let you communicate."

"Can I see his son then, Germain Grampierre?"

"Sorry. He's on parole."

Ambrose had been counting on this more than he knew, to talk with some man, even a breed, who believed in him. It is a necessity of our natures under trial. To deny it was like robbing him of his last hope.

Some power of endurance suddenly snapped within him.

"What do you come here for?" he cried in a breaking voice. "To torture me? Must I be surrounded day and night only by those who think me a murderer! For G.o.d's sake get the thing over with! Take me to town and hang me if that's what you want! A month of this and I'd be a gibbering idiot anyway!"

The ring of honest pain in this aroused dim compunctions in the admirable little colonel. He twisted his big mustache uncomfortably.

"I'm sure I've done what I could for you," he said.

"Everything except let me alone," cried Ambrose. "For G.o.d's sake go away and let me be!" He flung himself face downward on his cot.

Inspector Egerton withdrew stiffly.

Ambrose lay with his head in his arms, and let his shaking nerves quiet down. A fit of the blackest despair succeeded. To his other troubles he now added hot shame--that he had broken down before his enemy.

It seemed to him in the retrospect that he had raved like a guilty man.

He foresaw weeks and weeks of this yet to come with fresh humiliations daily and added pain; if he gave way already what would become of him in the end? How could he hope to keep his manhood? A blank terror faced him.

The sound of the key in the lock brought him springing to his feet.

None of them should see him weaken again! With trembling hands he put his pipe in his mouth, and lighted it nonchalantly.

It was Emslie with his supper.

"Playing waiter, eh?" drawled Ambrose. "You fellows have to be everything from grooms to chambermaids, don't you?"

Young Emslie stared, and grew red. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded.

"A man must have a little entertainment," said Ambrose. "I'm forced to get it out of you. You don't know how funny you are, Emslie."

"You'd best be civil!" growled the policeman.

"Why?" drawled out Ambrose. "You've got to keep a hold on yourself whatever I say to you. It's regulations. Man to man I could lick you with ease!"

"By gad!" began Emslie. Very red in the face, he turned on his heel, and went out slamming the door.

Ambrose laughed, and felt a little better. Only by allowing his bitter pain some such outlet was he able to endure it.

Disregarding the supper, he strode up and down his prison, planning in his despair how he would harden himself to steel. No longer would he suffer in silence. To the last hour he'd swagger and jeer.

These red-coats were stiff-necked and dull-witted; he could have rare fun with them.

He saw himself in the court-room keeping the crowd in a roar with his outrageous gibes. And if at the last he swung--he'd step off with a jest that would live in history!

The key turned in the lock again. He swung around ready with an insult for his jailer.

Colina stood in the doorway.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

THE JAIL VISITOR.

The light was behind Colina, and Ambrose could not at first read her expression. There was something changed in her aspect; her chin was not carried so high.

She was wearing a plain blue linen dress, and her hair was done low over her ears. Colina was one of the women who unconsciously dress to suit their moods.

She looked different now, but she was indisputably Colina.

The sight of her dear shape caused him the same old shock of astonishment. All the blood seemed to forsake his heart; he put a hand against the wall behind him for support.

He presently distinguished changes in her face also. It bore the marks of sleeplessness and suffering. Pride still made her eyes reticent and cold, but the old outrageous arrogance was gone.

In the wave of tenderness for her that engulfed him he clean forgot the self-pleasing defiance he had imagined for himself, forgot his desperate situation, forgot everything but her.

He was unable to speak, and Colina did not immediately offer to. She stood a step inside the door, with her hand on the back of the one chair the room contained. Her eyes were cast down. It was Emslie who broke the silence.

"Do you wish me to stay?" he respectfully asked Colina.

She raised grave eyes to Ambrose. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked evenly.

"Yes," said Ambrose breathlessly.

After a moment's hesitation she said to Emslie: "Please wait outside."

Ambrose's heart leaped up. No sooner had the door closed behind Emslie than, forgetting everything, it burst its bonds. "Colina! How good of you to come! It makes me so happy to see you! If you knew how I had hungered and thirsted for a sight of you! How charming you look in that dress! Your hair is done differently, too. I swear it is like the sun shining in here. You look tired. Sit down. Have some tea.

What a fool I am! You don't want to eat in a jail, do you?"

Her eyes widened with amazement at his outburst.

She shrank from him.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "I'm not going to touch you--a jailbird!

I'm not fooling myself. I know how you feel toward me. I can't help it. If you knew how I had been bottled up! I must speak to some one or go clean off my head. It makes me forget just to see you. Ah, it was good of you to come!"

"I am visiting all the prisoners," Colina was careful to explain. "And getting them what they need for the journey to-morrow."