She was trembling against him.  His arms closed about her, and he held her nearer to his heart, and longer, than he had ever held her before.  He kissed her hair many times, and her lips once, and up about his neck her arms twined softly, and a great brightness was in her eyes.

“I understand,” she whispered again.  “I understand.”

“And I—­I must answer you,” he said.  “I must answer you, because I love you, and because you must know.  Yes, John Keith is alive!”

XVI

An hour later, alone and heading for the inspector’s office, Keith felt in battle trim.  His head was fairly singing with the success of the morning.  Since the opening of Conniston’s chest many things had happened, and he was no longer facing a blank wall of mystery.  His chief cause of exhilaration was Mary Josephine.  She wanted to go away with him.  She wanted to go with him anywhere, everywhere, as long as they were together.  When she had learned that his term of enlistment was about to expire and that if he remained in the Service he would be away from her a great deal, she had pleaded with him not to reenlist.  She did not question him when he told her that it might be necessary to go away very suddenly, without letting another soul know of their movements, not even Wallie.  Intuitively she guessed that the reason had something to do with John Keith, for he had let the fear grow in her that McDowell might discover he had been a traitor to the Service, in which event the Law itself would take him away from her for a considerable number of years.  And with that fear she was more than ever eager for the adventure, and planned with him for its consummation.

Another thing cheered Keith.  He was no longer the absolute liar of yesterday, for by a fortunate chance he had been able to tell her that John Keith was alive.  This most important of all truths he had confided to her, and the confession had roused in her a comradeship that had proclaimed itself ready to fight for him or run away with him.  Not for an instant had she regretted the action he had taken in giving Keith his freedom.  He was peculiarly happy because of that.  She was glad John Keith was alive.

And now that she knew the story of the old home down in the clump of timber and of the man who had lived there, she was anxious to meet Miriam Kirkstone, daughter of the man he had killed.  Keith had promised her they would go up that afternoon.  Within himself he knew that he was not sure of keeping the promise.  There was much to do in the next few hours, and much might happen.  In fact there was but little speculation about it.  This was the big day.  Just what it held for him he could not be sure until he saw Shan Tung.  Any instant might see him put to the final test.

Cruze was pacing slowly up and down the hall when Keith entered the building in which McDowell had his offices.  The young secretary’s face bore a perplexed and rather anxious expression.  His hands were buried deep in his trousers pockets, and he was puffing a cigarette.  At Keith’s appearance he brightened up a bit.