"I do not wish to enter a convent," she said, with white lips. "I wish to be happy. When Keerk is free I shall go to him. Now, if you please, I--think I shall go away." She turned and went out of the big high-ceilinged room, and not until she had reached the hall did her feet waver or her head droop. When the two men were alone, Garavel said, brokenly: "She is the first to bring disgrace upon our name. Is there absolute proof that the man is guilty, Ramon?" "Proof?" Alfarez turned dazed eyes from the door through which Gertrudis had gone. "Proof? I believe so. I have not thought much of the matter as yet, but--I think there will be proof in plenty. Oh yes!" "Come then. I must go to see him. Perhaps--oh, God! Perhaps what? My head is afire, my heart is broken for you, my poor boy." XXIX A LAST APPEAL That was not a pleasant interview for Anthony. His surroundings were not such as to lend him assurance, and Garavel's grief at his daughter's disgrace was really distressing. Moreover, the unequivocal threat to annul the marriage filled him with alarm. His only consolation came from the fact that Gertrudis had made known the truth without the slightest hesitation. That showed that she was loyal, at any rate. Kirk tried to assure his caller that he would have no trouble in proving his innocence, but Garavel seemed very little concerned with that phase of the affair, and continued to bewail the dishonor that had fallen upon his name. Kirk's pride arose at this, and he exclaimed with some heat: "My dear Mr. Garavel, if you are so blamed sure that I did all these things, why did you come to see me?" "It was to learn if she spoke the truth." "Oh, we're married, right enough. And you'll have some difficulty in breaking it up before I get out." "You expect, then, to prove your innocence easily?" "I do." "But I hear there are other serious charges." "It is quite the same with them." "But--suppose you should not clear yourself of this--murder--would you wish to drag down my daughter's name?" "Of course not." "I understand you have not spoken of this marriage. Perhaps you might consent to remain silent. If by any chance you should be convicted of guilt, what satisfaction could you derive from injuring me and mine?" "None at all, sir." "I am rich," Garavel went on, meaningly. "If you are acquitted, I might, perhaps, arrange amply for your future--upon conditions." "In other words, if I am to be hanged or shot or whatever it is they do to people down here, you'll expect me to keep my mouth shut on general principles, and if I'm acquitted you'll pay me well to disappear. Is that it? Well, there is some family pride to that." He laughed lightly. "My political future may depend upon it." "If I can help you in that way I'll gladly keep silent as long as you wish, but I don't think I care to make any further terms."