Her open countenance did not blench, nor was her straightforward look for a moment withdrawn. Indeed there was in her resonant tones, unflinching regard, and confident manner something of the authority of the sybil. Lord Montressor really admired the honest, brave, upright and downright nature of Barbara Brande. And now it was something more than admiration, it was a sort of deference that he felt for her. But she was looking straight at him, and was waiting for an answer. “But why, Miss Brande, should I burden you with my confidences?” he asked mildly. “Because I can aid you.” “You can aid me!” “Ay, sir; for I know your history. Do not ask me _how_ I know it; for I cannot tell you without a breach of confidence. But, sir, I know the object of your pursuit, and know it to be, for the present at least, utterly futile—as it indeed should be!” “Miss Brande!” “Lord Montressor, I have no puerile fear of misconstruction at your hands—you are not the slave of a conventionalism that may be ‘a good servant, but a bad master.’ You will not, I am sure, accuse me of obtrusiveness—and even if you did——” “And if I did——?” “I should survive it!” smiled Barbara. But then growing suddenly serious, she said— “I told you that I could aid you, sir; but for that power of helping you I had not spoken!” “I thank you from the depths of my heart, Miss Brande! And I am sure that your words will be justified. But—you know my story! You know the object of my voyage! _do_ you know where Lady Montressor is?” “Sir, I cannot answer that question without a breach of confidence. What I can tell you without blame, I will tell you without question. In the first place, your search here is utterly hopeless! Lady Montressor is not in Havana. In the second place, where she tarries, she is well, only wishing for the present to sequester herself from you.” “For the _present_.” “_I_ said for the present. Your lordship will please to put yourself for a moment in this lady’s place, and you will see that as a Christian woman, she can do no otherwise than she does. Consider, sir, that the validity of your marriage is _questioned_ and rests for final decision with the Spiritual Court of Arches.” “Miss Brande! a higher tribunal than any earthly court has already adjudged this cause. The claimant of Lady Montressor’s hand is numbered with the dead.” “I know it. Yet how forgetful men are! You should remember, sir, that this claimant was also once, whether rightfully or wrongfully—the _possessor_ of this lady’s hand. Therefore, my lord, the lady is right, right, right, and forever right, in having considered that circumstance—while that claimant lived, a barrier to her second marriage. And now, Lord Montressor, let me say to you, that all your hopes for a future union with the Lady Estelle rest upon the decision of the Court of Arches.” “In the name of Heaven, _how_—what do you mean?”