With the utterance of the words his hand fell, and he moved away.
The opening and the closing of the door told her he had gone.
CHAPTER VIII
ARREST
"Ah, but what a night for dreams!"
The cool salt air came in from the sea like a benediction, blowing softly about the sick man by the window, sending a gleam of life into eyes grown weary with long suffering. He leaned back upon his pillows for the first time in many hours.
"It is as if the door of heaven had opened," he said.
"You're not going yet, old chap!" Max answered, a curious blending of grimness and tenderness in his voice.
"But no—not yet—not yet." Softly Bertrand made answer, but resolution throbbed in his words also. "I must not fail her—my little pal—my bird of Paradise. But the night is very long, Max, mon ami. And the darkness—the darkness—"
Max's hand came quietly down and closed upon his wrist. "I'll see you through," he said.