He said without the slightest dramatic emphasis: "It really does mean my death, Miss Girard. I think, knowing your father, that there could be no possible hope for me if I go back there without you.... And so, knowing that, I am naturally most anxious to clear out of England while I can do so--get away from here with you--if I can take you with a clear conscience. And"--he looked at her, "I feel that I can do that because you have told me that you have gathered no information for the enemies of England. And"--he smiled--"to look into your face, Miss Girard, is to believe you." Some of the pretty color faded from her cheeks; she said: "You asked me if I were a spy. I am not. You asked me if, knowingly, I carry any military information which might aid the enemies of England. And I answered you that, knowingly, I do not carry any such information." "That is sufficient," he concluded, smilingly. "No, it is not sufficient," she said. "I wish to say a little more. Let me go to Trois Fontaines alone. I am accustomed to travel. There is no need to involve you. As long as I arrive there what difference does it make whether or not you accompany me?" "I promised to accompany you." "You promised that I should arrive safely at Trois Fontaines. It doesn't matter whether you accompany me. Please--please don't. I had rather you did not go." He said, gravely: "I know how you must feel about travelling as my wife----" "It isn't that." "What is it then?" he asked, surprised. "I don't wish you to take the risk of travelling with me." "What risk? The worst that could happen to you would be your arrest and detention. If you are not a spy, you can not be proven one." Her blue eyes gazed absently out across the sunny landscape through which they were speeding. "You are not a spy," he replied; "what risk do you run--or I?" She said, still gazing into the sunlit distance: "What is done to spies--if they are caught?" "It usually means death, Miss Girard." "I have--" she swallowed, caught her breath, breathed deeply; then--"I have heard so.... It is possible that I might be suspected and detained.... I had rather you did not attempt to go with me.... Because--I do not wish you to get into any difficulty--on my--account." "Nothing serious could happen to either you or me through anything that you have done." "I am not sure." "I am," he said. And added in a lower voice: "It is very generous of you--very kind." Her own voice was lower still: "Please don't go with me, Mr. Guild. Let me go to the wharf alone. Let me take my chances alone. If there is any difficulty they will arrest you, too. And if I--were convicted----" "You could not be. That is utterly impossible. Don't think of such things, Miss Girard." "I _must_ think of them. Will you tell me something?" She turned and looked at him curiously, almost wistfully.