"She says nothing," said Axton to himself, as he arose slowly to his feet, "she is silent. What does it mean?" He made one last effort to induce her to deny the accusation of Judas. "You will not speak!" he said, in tones of acute anguish. "I have knelt, I have prayed; you are silent. I can do nothing. You are innocent, I'll swear; but I cannot prove it. No one can prove it but yourself, and you say nothing. Judith, listen! You are in deadly peril. Fanks is coming up to-night with Judas, and they will accuse you of this crime!" "To-night?" "Yes; they have written to Mr. Marson. They will produce the handkerchief. They will tell the story. You refuse to answer me; you must answer them. Fanks told me of this to-day, and I came up at once to warn you." "It is useless! I can say nothing." "You must say something. It is a question of life and death. The affair is in the hands of the law. Nothing can save you but your own denial. You must prove the falseness of this horrible story. It means disgrace. It means prison! It means death!" She looked up suddenly as he spoke those last words, and crossing over to him, laid her hand on his shoulder, speaking wildly, and with uncontrollable agitation. "I know what it means. You need not tell me that. I know it means the smirching of my fair fame as a woman, I know that it condemns me to an ignominious death; but I can say nothing. Roger, on my soul, I can say nothing. I cannot say I am innocent; I dare not say I am guilty. I must be silent. I must be dumb. Let them say what they like; let them do what they like; my honour and my life rest in the hands of God, and He alone can save me." "But you are innocent!" She burst into tears. "Oh, why do you torture me like this? I tell you I can say nothing; not even to you. My lips are sealed. Let them come up to-night; let them accuse me; let them drag me to prison. I can say nothing. For days, for nights I have dreaded this, now it has come at last. You believe me innocent, my true-hearted lover, but the world will believe me guilty. Let them do so. God knows my sufferings. God knows my anguish, and in His hands I leave myself for good or ill." He heard her with bowed head, and at the end of her speech he felt a soft kiss on his hair. When he looked up the room was empty. "Judith!" There was no reply, and the only sound he heard was the distant slamming of a door that seemed to his agonised imagination to separate him from the woman he loved--for ever. Chapter 17 The Guessing of the Riddle