Gently Crowther finished his tale. "That's about all there is to tell, except that from the day he left you to this, he has borne his burden like a man, and he has never once done anything unworthy of you. He is a man, Avery, not a boy any longer. He is a man you can trust, for he will never deceive you again. If he hasn't yet found his place of repentance, it hasn't been for lack of the seeking. If you can send him a line of forgiveness, he will go into this war with a high heart, and you will have reason to be proud of him when you meet again."
He got up and moved in his slow, massive way across the room.
"Now you will let me give you some tea," he said. "I am sure you must be tired."
Had he seen the tears rolling down her face as she sat there? If so he gave no sign. Quietly he busied himself with his preparations, and before he came back to her, she had wiped them away.
He waited upon her with womanly gentleness, and later he went with her to the hotel at which Piers usually stayed, and saw her established there for the night.
It was not till the moment of parting that she found any words in which to express herself.
Then, with her hand in his, she whispered chokingly, "I feel as if—as if—I had failed him—just when he needed me most. He was in prison, and—I left him there."
Crowther's steady eyes looked into hers with kindness that was full of sustaining comfort. "He has broken out of his prison," he said. "Don't fret—don't fret!"
Her lips were quivering painfully. She turned her face aside. "He will scarcely need me now," she said.
"Write and ask him!" said Crowther gently.