"For love of whom, Ste. Marie, did you undertake this quest—this search for Arthur Benham? It was not in idleness or by way of a whim. It was for love. For love of whom?"
For some strange and inexplicable reason the words struck him like a blow, and he stared whitely.
"I came," he said at last, and his voice was oddly flat, "for his sister's sake. For love of her." Coira O'Hara dropped her eyes. But presently she looked up again with a smile. She said—
"God make you happy, my friend!" And she turned and moved away from him up among the trees. At a little distance she turned, saying—
"Wait where you are! I will fetch Arthur or send him to you. He must be told at once." Then she went on and was lost to sight.
Ste. Marie followed a few steps after her and halted. His face was turned, by chance, towards the east wall, and suddenly he gave a great cry and smothered it with his hands over his mouth. His knees bent under him and he was weak and trembling. Then he began to run. He ran with awkward steps for his leg was not yet entirely recovered, but he ran fast, and his heart beat within him until he thought it must burst.
He was making for that spot which was overhung by the half dead cedar tree.
CHAPTER XXVI
"I WON'T GO!"
Ste. Marie came under the wall breathless and shaking. What he had seen there from a distance was no longer visible, but he pressed in close among the lilac shrubs and called out in an unsteady voice. He said—