“All?  What else, pray?”

Her eyes opened widely in sudden surprise and she clasped and unclasped her hands nervously.

“Do you really not know?  Have you never been told what happened?”

“Only that I was roughly forbidden to speak, called every foul name the learned Judge could think of, and then sentenced to twenty years penal servitude beyond seas,” I answered soberly.  “Following that I was dragged from the dock, and flung into a cell.  Was there anything else?”

“Why you should have known.  Lord Jeffries sentenced you to death; the decree was signed, to be executed immediately.  Then influence was brought to bear—­some nobleman in Northumberland made direct appeal to the King.  That was what angered Jeffries so.”

“An appeal!  For me?  Good God! not Bucclough—­was it he, the Duke?”

“Yes; it was whispered about that the King was in his debt—­some word of honor, and dare not refuse.  The word of mercy came just in time, ordering Jeffries to commute your sentence.  At first he swore he’d hang you, King or no King, but his nerve failed.  My uncle said he roared like a bull.  This Bucclough; is he not your friend?”

I hesitated for an instant of indecision, looking into her face, but the truth would not be denied.

“Scarcely that,” I said soberly.  “Nor can I solve entirely his purpose.  He is my brother, and I am the next in line.  We are not even on speaking terms; yet he is childless, and may feel some measure of dislike to have the family end in a hangman’s knot.  I can think of no other reason for his interference.  I knew nothing of his action.”

“I am glad it became my privilege to tell you.  Besides, Captain Carlyle,” simply, “it may also help you to understand my interest.  If you are of the Carlyles of Bucclough, how happened it that you went to sea?”

“Largely necessity, and to some extent no doubt sheer love of adventure.  I was a younger son, with very little income.  There were then two lives between me and the estate, and the old Duke, my father, treated me like a servant.  I always loved the sea, and at fourteen—­to get me out of his sight, I think largely—­was apprenticed to the navy, but lost my grade in the service by a mere boyish prank.  His influence then would have saved me, but he refused to even read my letter of explanation.  I dare not return home in such disgrace, and consequently drifted into the merchant service.  It is a story quickly told.”

“Yet not so quickly lived.”

“No, it meant many hard years, on all the oceans of the world.  This is the first message reaching me from the old home.”

“I have seen that home,” she said quietly, “and shall never forget the impression it made on me.  A beautiful place.  I was there on a coaching party, the first summer I was in England.  I was a mere girl then, and everything seemed wonderful.  I have been away from Maryland now for three years.”