they true?"

"They are true. But - "

"True!" cried Miss Armytage in horror.

"Ah, wait," O'Moy bade her with his heavy sneer. "You interrupt
him. He is about to construe those facts so that they shall wear
an innocent appearance. He is about to prove himself worthy of
the great sacrifice you made to save his life. Well?" And he
looked expectantly at Tremayne.

Miss Armytage looked at him too, with eyes from which the dread
passed almost at once. The captain was smiling, wistfully,
tolerantly, confidently, almost scornfully. Had he been guilty of
the thing imputed he could not have stood so in her presence.

"O'Moy," he said slowly, "I should tell you that you have played
the knave in this were it not clear to me that you have played the
fool." He spoke entirely without passion. He saw his way quite
clearly. Things had reached a pass in which for the sake of all
concerned, and perhaps for the sake of Miss Armytage more than any
one, the whole truth must be spoken without regard to its
consequences to Richard Butler.

"You dare to take that tone?" began O'Moy in a voice of thunder.

"Yourself shall be the first to justify it presently. I should be
angry with you, O'Moy, for what you have done. But I find my anger
vanishing in regret. I should scorn you for the lie you have acted,