Luncheon, after all, with a waiter within hearing, and Monsieur Jules hovering round, banished in a great measure the curious sense of unreality from which none of them were wholly free. And when coffee came, Madame leaned a little towards Duncan, and with her hand upon his arm whispered a question. "My letters, Duncan! What became of them?" He sighed. "I was a little rash, perhaps," he said, "but--they were all I had left. They were with me at Colenso, in an envelope, sealed and addressed, to be burnt unopened. When I was hit, I got a Red Cross man to cut them out of my coat and destroy them." Madame de Melbain looked at him for a moment, and her eyes were soft with unshed tears. Then she turned away, though her hand still rested upon his. "Duncan," she said quietly, "don't think that I mind. You did all that you could, and indeed I would rather that you cared so much. But the letters were not destroyed." For a moment he failed to realize the import of her words. "Not destroyed?" he repeated, a little vaguely. "No!" she answered. "They came into the hands of some one in London. Terrible things have happened in connexion with them. Duncan, if you will listen to me quietly, I will tell you about it. Sit down, dear." She saw the gathering storm. The man's face was black with anger. He was still a little dazed however. "You mean--that the man to whom I trusted them--" "He kept them for his own purpose," she said softly. "Don't look like that, Duncan. He has paid his debt. He is dead!" "And the letters?" "We do not know. My husband's advisers are trying to get possession of them. That is why the courts have not yet pronounced their judgment." He had risen to his feet, but she drew him gently down again. "Remember, Duncan, that the man is dead! Be calm, and I will tell you all about it." He looked at her wonderingly. "You are not angry with me?" "Angry! Why should I be? I am only happy to know that you never forgot--that you could not bear to destroy the only link that was left between us. Do you know, I am almost sorry that I spoke to you about this! We seem to have snatched an hour or two out of Paradise, and it is I who have stirred up the dark waters. Let us forget it for a few more minutes!" He drew her away with him towards their seat under the trees. Wrayson looked across at Louise with a smile. "You, too," he said. "May we not forget a little longer?" She smiled at him sadly, and shook her head. "No!" she answered. "With them it is different. I can scarcely yet realize that I have a brother: think what it must be to Emilie to have the man whom she loved come back from the grave. Listen!" Outside they heard the sound of galloping horses. A moment later the Baron de Courcelles issued from the inn and crossed the lawn towards Madame de Melbain.