Cicely winced at his words, but sobbed on helplessly, making no attempt to defend herself. Captain Protheroe walked slowly to the far end of the room and having partially mastered his anger, slowly returned to her side.
"Come, madame," he said sharply, "there is no need to weep more about the matter. The thing is done; there is an end on't."
"I—I did it for Barbara," she sobbed, stung by his tone to seek for some self-justification.
"Ah!" His tone was startled, questioning.
"Your life was to be the price of her freedom."
"Her freedom!"
"Yes. But, fool that I was, as well as traitor, they took my information and cheated me of the reward."
She burst into a fresh passion of sobs.
But now all trace of anger had left his face, he was eager, glad.
"But, Lady Cicely," he cried, "this is, indeed, a different matter; I had misunderstood. You were justified, perfectly. What a villain I was to doubt you. Madame, can you ever forgive me?"