“They must not, my dear,” he answered her; stroking the fair head that lay against his breast. “They must not fail. I must see to that.” “You? You?” Her eyes dilated as she looked at him. She caught her breath on a gasping sob. “Ah no, Terence,” she cried wildly. “You must not; you must not. You must say nothing--for my sake, Terence, if you love me, oh, for my sake, Terence!” “For honour’s sake, I must,” he answered her. “And for the sake of Sylvia and of Tremayne, whom I have wronged, and--” “Not for my sake, Terence,” Sylvia interrupted him. He looked at her, and then at Tremayne. “And you, Ned--what do you say?” he asked. “Ned could not wish--” began her ladyship. “Please let him speak for himself, my dear,” her husband interrupted her. “What can I say?” cried Tremayne, with a gesture that was almost of anger. “How can I advise? I scarcely know. You realise what you must face if you confess?” “Fully, and the only part of it I shrink from is the shame and scorn I have deserved. Yet it is inevitable. You agree, Ned?” “I am not sure. None who understands as I understand can feel anything but regret. Oh, I don’t know. The evidence of what you suspected was overwhelming, and it betrayed you into this mistake. The punishment you would have to face is surely too heavy, and you have suffered far more already than you can ever be called upon to suffer again, no matter what is done to you. Oh, I don’t know! The problem is too deep for me. There is Una to be considered, too. You owe a duty to her, and if you keep silent it may be best for all. You can depend upon us to stand by you in this.” “Indeed, indeed,” said Sylvia. He looked at them and smiled very tenderly. “Never was a man blessed with nobler friends who deserved so little of them,” he said slowly. “You heap coals of fire upon my head. You shame me through and through. But have you considered, Ned, that all may not depend upon my silence? What if the provost-marshal, investigating now, were to come upon the real facts?” “It is impossible that sufficient should be discovered to convict you.” “How can you be sure of that? And if it were possible, if it came to pass, what then would be my position? You see, Ned! I must accept the punishment I have incurred lest a worse overtake me--to put it at its lowest. I must voluntarily go forward and denounce myself before another denounces me. It is the only way to save some rag of honour.” There was a tap at the door, and Mullins came to announce that Lord Wellington was asking to see Sir Terence. “He is waiting in the study, Sir Terence.” “Tell his lordship I will be with him at once.” Mullins departed, and Sir Terence prepared to follow. Gently he disengaged himself from the arms her ladyship now flung about him. “Courage, my dear,” he said. “Wellington may show me more mercy than I deserve.” “You are going to tell him?” she questioned brokenly.