ysical blow.
He winced perceptibly, and his face worked with agitation. But he rose
splendidly to the occasion. In a second or so his customary commanding
dignity returned, and his keen eyes flashed with resolution and
defiance. He wheeled upon Maillot at the instant that much distressed
young man was persuaded by Genevieve to leave Belle's side.

"Maillot," said he, in a firm voice, "I sincerely regret any hard
feelings I may have entertained for you in the past. You are not only
a courageous young man, but an innocent one, and one, therefore, that
is being made to suffer a grievous wrong. I wish to say so here
publicly; I wish, too, to say publicly that I mean to see that you have
at your disposal the best legal talent procurable."

Maillot's reception of this proffer was peculiar. He looked the man of
money squarely in the eyes for an instant; then his lips twisted into a
mocking smile. He nodded his head ever so slightly, but the movement
was unmistakably a curt rejection.

"Thank you," he said dryly, his voice low and even. "But I intend
getting out of this scrape myself, Mr. Fluette; I don't wish to
occasion you any future embarrassment. Please don't mistake my
meaning."

Fluette made no further effort, and it was impossible to determine just
how the rebuff--it was no less--affected him; he had himself too well
in hand, now. He began preparations for conveying home his still
unconscious daughter, and before they departed I contrived to have a
private word with Genevieve. Her face was very tragic.

"I must see you alone--as soon as possible," I said hurriedly.

"I can't leave Belle," she whispered. "What is it?"

"My first request from my lieutenant," I chided, smiling down at her.

"Don't!" she pleaded. "I shall come. Where? When?"

"Dear me, no. I'll do the coming; it's only 'when'?"

"To-morrow?" she suggested doubtfully. "You know, we 're all so upset.
And Belle--" The dear girl nearly broke down. "Yes, do come," she
murmured tearfully, "as early as you can; everything depends upon you,
now."

I caught her hand. "Please don't worry," I whispered; "everything will
come out right. I can't bear to see you suffer. Will eight o'clock be
too early?"

"No."

"I 'll not say 'Be brave,' for you 're the bravest girl in the world;
but please, please don't fret and worry. Here 's your coachman.
Good-bye."

She smiled wanly. "I sha'n't," she said. "Good-bye--till to-morrow
morning