"Frank!" she cried, with her tears falling. And she went to him and took his hand, then drew his head against her bosom as though to give him sanctuary. "Imagine believing that you, _you_ of all people..." and the broken words of comfort and faith in him, of love and belief again gave him a moment of feeling that rehabilitation might be possible. "Frank!" Rachel went on, "tell me this. Did my father know?" "Know what?" Rendel said, starting up, the iron reality again facing him. "That you were accused? That they could believe that you had done such a shameful thing?" "Yes," said Rendel slowly. "At least he knew what had happened--and--and--he guessed that the suspicion would fall upon me." "Oh!" cried Rachel, hiding her face in her hands and trying to steady her voice. "I am sorry he knew just at the end. I wonder if he realised?" Rendel said nothing. Even now was Sir William Gore to stand between them? "Perhaps he didn't," Rachel said, almost entreatingly, "as he was so ill. Because think what it would have been to him! Of course he would have known it was not true, but he was so fastidious, so terribly sensitive, the mere thought that you could have been suspected of such a thing even would have preyed upon him so terribly." "Well," said Rendel, in a low voice--the last possibility of clearing himself was put behind him, and the darkness fell again--"he is beyond reach of it. It is I who must suffer now." Rachel had walked to the other side of the garden, pressing her handkerchief to her eyes and trying to control herself. Now she came swiftly back, a sudden determination in her heart. "Frank," she cried, "why must you suffer? We must find out who really did it." "I can't," said Rendel. "But have you tried?" "Yes," he said. "As much as was possible." "But it must be possible," she cried. And she came to him, her eyes and face glowing with resolve. "If the whole world came to me and said that you had done this I should not believe it. I remember so well my mother saying, the day that I came back from Maidenhead," and their eyes met in the recollection of that happy, cloudless time, "'what a man needs is some one to believe in him,' and I thought to myself that when--if--I married I would believe in my husband as she believed in my father." At this moment one of the Swiss waiters came quickly through the pavilion into the garden. "Monsieur Pateley," he said, "wishes to know if Madame is at home." Rachel and her husband looked at each other in consternation. "I can't see him at this moment," Rendel said, going to the gate. "Can't we send him away?" said Rachel, anxiously.