"You have been asleep nearly six hours, and we are on the Rhine, near Emmerich," she answered, smiling. She was pale, and the long hours of watching had drawn dark circles round her eyes. But the old undaunted courage shone in them still, and her smile was as sweet as ever. "Have we passed the frontier?" I asked eagerly. "Well, nearly," she answered. "But how does your wound feel?" "Rather stiff and sore," I said ruefully, after making an experiment by moving my body to and fro. "And I am very thirsty, but I could steer." "So you shall," she said. "Only first eat something. We broke our fast before the others lay down. There is bread and meat behind you, and some hollands and water in the bottle." I seized the latter and drank greedily. Then, finding myself hungry now I came to think about it, I fell upon the eatables. "You will do now, I think," she said, when she had watched me for some time. I laughed for answer, pleased that the long dark night, its gloom and treachery were past. But its memories remained and presently I said, "If Van Tree did not try to kill me--and I am perfectly sure he did not----" "So am I," she said. "We were all wrong." "Then," I continued, looking at her gravely, "who did? that is the question. And why?" "You are sure that it was not the Spaniard whom you hurt in defense of Dymphna?" my lady asked. "Quite sure." "And sure that it was not Clarence?" she persisted. "Quite sure. It was a short man," I explained again, "and dressed in a cloak. That is all I can tell about him." "It might be some one employed by Clarence," she suggested, her face gloomy, her brows knit. "True, I had not thought of that," I answered. "And it reminds me. I have heard so much of Clarence----" "And seen some little--even that little more than was good for you." "Yes, he has had the better of me, on both occasions," I allowed. "But I was going to ask you," I continued, "to tell me something about him. He was your steward, I know. But how did he come to you? How was it you trusted him?"