And with this he told her the entire story of what had befallen, saving only his own part therein, nor did he try to explain his own opportune presence in the church. When he spoke of the coming of Tebaldo and his men she shuddered and closed her eyes. Only after he had concluded his tale did she turn them full upon him. Their brightness seemed to increase, and now he saw that she was weeping. "And you were there to save me, Tristan?" she murmured brokenly. "Oh, Tristan, it seems that you are ever at hand when I have need of you! You are, indeed, my one true friend--the one true friend that never fails me!" "Are you feeling stronger, Hellayne?" he asked abruptly. "Yes--I am stronger!" She rose as if to test her strength. "Indeed little ails me save the horror of this thing. The thought of it seems to turn me sick and dizzy." "Sit then and rest!" he enjoined. "Presently, when you feel equal to it, we shall start out!" "Whither shall we go?" she asked. "Why--to the abode of your liege lord." "Why--yes--" she answered at length, as though it had been the last suggestion she had expected. "And when he returns," she added, after a pause, "he will owe you no small thanks for your solicitude on my behalf." There was a pause. A hundred thoughts thronged Tristan's mind. Presently she spoke again. "Tristan," she inquired very gently, "what was it that brought you to the church?" "I came with the others, Hellayne," he replied, and, fearing such questions as might follow--questions he had been dreading ever since he brought her to the sacristy, he said: "If you are recovered, we had better set out." "I am not yet sufficiently recovered," she replied. "And, before we go, there are a few points in this strange adventure that I would have you make clear to me! Meanwhile we are very well here! If the good fathers do come upon us, what shall it signify?"-- Tristan groaned inwardly and grew more afraid than when Basil's men had broken into the church an hour ago. "What detained you after all had gone?" "I remained to pray," he answered, with a sense of irritation at her persistence. "What else was there to do in a church?" "To pray for me?" "Assuredly." "Dear, faithful heart," she murmured. "And I have used you so cruelly. But you merited my cruelty--Tristan! Say that you did, else must I perish of remorse." "Perchance I deserved it," he replied. "But perchance not so much as you bestowed, had you understood my motives," he said unguardedly. "If I had understood your motives?" she mused. "Ay--there is much I do not understand! Even in this night's business there are not wanting things that remain mysterious, despite the elucidations you have supplied. Tell me, Tristan--what was it that caused you to believe, that I still lived?" "I did not believe it," he blundered like a fool, never seeing whither her question led.