"I was afraid maybe" the girl began her cheeks suddenly flaming.
"Afraid that, after all, it wasn't true?" the man she had found in war's vortex finished, his gray eyes compelling hers to tell him their whole message. "Afraid that Captain Cavendish might be as vile a deceiver as Woodhouse? Does Cavendish have to prove himself all over again, little girl?"
"No—no !" Her hands fluttered into his, and her lips were parted in a smile. "It's Captain Woodhouse I want to know—always; the man whose pledged word I held to."
"It must have been—hard," he murmured. "But you were splendid—splendid!"
"No, I was not." Tears came to dim her eyes, and the hands he held trembled. "Once—in one terrible moment this morning—when Jaimihr told us you were going to the signal tower—when we waited—waited to hear that awful noise, my faith failed me. I thought you"
"Forget that moment, Jane, dearest. A saint would have denied faith then."
They were silent for a minute, their hearts
