Mina read. A gasp of breath from her brought Neeld's eyes down from their refuge and stayed Iver and the Major's whispered talk. She gazed from one to the other of them. She had flushed red; her face was very agitated and showed a great stress of feeling. Duplay with an exclamation of surprise put out his hand for the letter. But Mina kept hers on it, pinning it immovably to the table. For another minute she sat there, facing the three. Then all composure failed her; she burst into tears, and bowing her head to meet her arms on the table, covering the letter with her hair, she sobbed violently. The fort she had been defending was betrayed from within. For some reason unknown, unguessable, the champion she fought for had fled from the fight. And the few words of his message--aye, and that he should send a message to her--pierced her to the heart. Strained already by her battle, she was broken down by this sudden end to it, this sudden and disastrous end. "I can't help it, I can't help it," the men heard her say between her sobs. Her apology did nothing to relieve their extreme discomfort. All three felt brutal; even the Major's face lost its gloomy fierceness and relaxed into an embarrassed solicitude. "Ought we to call the maid?" he whispered. "Poor child!" murmured Neeld. The sobs dominated these timid utterances. Was it they who had brought her to this state, or was it the letter? Iver stirred uneasily in his chair, his business manner and uncharitable shrewdness suddenly seeming out of place. "Give her time," he said gently. "Give her time, poor girl." Mina raised her head; tears ran down her cheeks; she was woe personified. "Time's no use," she groaned. "It's all over now." Neeld caught at the state of affairs by an intuition to which his previous knowledge helped him. Duplay had been baffled by Harry's diplomacy and expected no action from his side. To Neeld such a development seemed possible, and it was the only thing which to his mind could throw light on Mina's behavior. "Won't you show us the letter?" he asked gently. "Oh, yes. And I'll tell you anything you like now. It doesn't matter now." She looked at Neeld; she was loyal to the end. "I was the only person who knew it," she said to Iver. That was too much. Timid he might be, even to the point of cowardice; but now, when the result of confession would be no harm to anybody but himself, Neeld felt he must speak if he were to have any chance of going on thinking himself a gentleman--and it is an unpleasant thing for a man to realize that he has none. "I must correct Madame Zabriska," he said. "I knew it too." "What?" cried Duplay. Iver turned quick scrutinizing eyes on his friend. "You knew too? You knew what?" he demanded. "The facts we have been endeavoring to obtain from Madame Zabriska." "The facts about----" "Oh, it's all in the letter," cried Mina in a quick burst of impatience. "There it is."