She leaned forward, seized Robin’s hands, drew them down, and looked into his face.
“You have lied to us?”
“Yes—”
“Of what?”
“I never fought at Mivoie; I was afraid; Bertrand took my arms.”
Tiphaïne dropped his hands and started back from him, a look—almost of fierceness—on her face.
“Robin, is this the truth?”
The misery of his silence answered her.
“What! You played the coward!—you let Bertrand make this sacrifice!”
Her clear voice rang along the gallery, calling echoes from the sleeping house. Robin, terrified, sprang forward and gripped her arm.