In his excitement Arthur had caught hold of the old man's arm. It was angrily wrenched away. “Enrico! What has come to you? Why don't you answer? Are we all going to be let out?” A contemptuous grunt was the only reply. “Look here!” Arthur again took hold of the warder's arm, laughing. “It is no use for you to be cross to me, because I'm not going to get offended. I want to know about the others.” “Which others?” growled Enrico, suddenly laying down the shirt he was folding. “Not Bolla, I suppose?” “Bolla and all the rest, of course. Enrico, what is the matter with you?” “Well, he's not likely to be let out in a hurry, poor lad, when a comrade has betrayed him. Ugh!” Enrico took up the shirt again in disgust. “Betrayed him? A comrade? Oh, how dreadful!” Arthur's eyes dilated with horror. Enrico turned quickly round. “Why, wasn't it you?” “I? Are you off your head, man? I?” “Well, they told him so yesterday at interrogation, anyhow. I'm very glad if it wasn't you, for I always thought you were rather a decent young fellow. This way!” Enrico stepped out into the corridor and Arthur followed him, a light breaking in upon the confusion of his mind. “They told Bolla I'd betrayed him? Of course they did! Why, man, they told me he had betrayed me. Surely Bolla isn't fool enough to believe that sort of stuff?” “Then it really isn't true?” Enrico stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked searchingly at Arthur, who merely shrugged his shoulders. “Of course it's a lie.” “Well, I'm glad to hear it, my lad, and I'll tell him you said so. But you see what they told him was that you had denounced him out of--well, out of jealousy, because of your both being sweet on the same girl.” “It's a lie!” Arthur repeated the words in a quick, breathless whisper. A sudden, paralyzing fear had come over him. “The same girl--jealousy!” How could they know--how could they know? “Wait a minute, my lad.” Enrico stopped in the corridor leading to the interrogation room, and spoke softly. “I believe you; but just tell me one thing. I know you're a Catholic; did you ever say anything in the confessional------” “It's a lie!” This time Arthur's voice had risen to a stifled cry. Enrico shrugged his shoulders and moved on again. “You know best, of course; but you wouldn't be the only young fool that's been taken in that way. There's a tremendous ado just now about a priest in Pisa that some of your friends have found out. They've printed a leaflet saying he's a spy.” He opened the door of the interrogation room, and, seeing that Arthur stood motionless, staring blankly before him, pushed him gently across the threshold. “Good-afternoon, Mr. Burton,” said the colonel, smiling and showing his teeth amiably. “I have great pleasure in congratulating you. An order for your release has arrived from Florence. Will you kindly sign this paper?” Arthur went up to him. “I want to know,” he said in a dull voice, “who it was that betrayed me.”