"Ranulph, Ranulph," she broke in, "you must not speak of this now! Do
you not see it hurts me? It is not like you. It is not right of you--"

A sudden emotion seized him, and his voice shook. "Not right! You
should know that I'd never say one word to hurt you, or do one thing to
wrong you. But I must speak to-day-I must tell you everything. I've
thought of it for four long years, and I know now that what I mean to do
is right."

She sat down in the great arm-chair. A sudden weakness came upon her:
she was being brought face to face with days of which she had never
allowed herself to think, for she lived always in the future now.

"Go on," she said helplessly. "What have you to say, Ranulph?"

"I will tell you why I didn't speak of my love to you that day we went to
the Ecrehos. My father came back that day."

"Yes, yes," she said; "of course you had to think of him."

"Yes, I had to think of him, but not in the way you mean. Be patient a
little while," he added.

Then in a few words he told her the whole story of his father's treachery
and crime, from the night before the Battle of Jersey up to their meeting
again upon the Ecrehos.

Guida was amazed and moved. Her heart filled with pity. "Ranulph--poor
Ranulph!" she said, half rising in her seat.