e
proceedings--when I realized that the chair was placed between us as an
object of defence. She stood, very erect, behind it, her hand tightly
holding the back. She was prepared with a weapon of offence, also.
For now her right hand appeared, for the first time, from a fold of her
gown; I was startled to see that it held a small, shining revolver.
For the first time, too, her hazel eyes met mine, and they burned with
a light which, considering the manner of my reception, I was not slow
in ascribing to a state of mind bordering upon irresponsibility.

"So I am a prisoner," I said.

"You are," she replied. She clipped the words in an uncompromising way
which promised that I was in for a bad quarter of an hour. Where in
the world was Genevieve? I wondered. But Miss Belle went on at once,
eying me steadily with a hard, stony look.

"I shall get to the point at once. It all depends upon you, whether or
not you leave this room alive. It will be for you to choose, and I
think you 'll choose the wiser course. I 'm in dead earnest."

She was, whatever her purpose; there was no gainsaying that. I was
profoundly curious to learn what that purpose was.

"May I sit down?" I asked, calmly.

She made an impatient gesture with the hand that clutched the
chair-back--the hand that held the door-key. But there were two keys
in her grasp, I observed. The flowing sleeve of her dressing-gown
disclosed a momentary glimpse of white, rounded arm.

"It's useless--useless for you to play for time. I want to know why
you have permitted Royal Maillot to be railroaded to _jail_"--she flung
the word at me--"and permitted a _snake_ like that creature, Burke, to
go scathless.

"But, no, I don't care for your motives. You know Royal to be
innocent. Between the two who were in that house Tuesday night--Royal,
open, frank, and manly; Alexander Burke, sly, secretive, and a coward
if ever there was one. What sort of intellect have you that it should
make such a choice between these two? Bah! You're either base--in
league with the criminals--or a fool."

She stopped for sheer lack of breath. She stood staring at me with all
the dignity of an outraged queen, and for once in my life I was so
astounded that I was at an utter loss for words. I sank into a nearby
chair--without her permission--and for the second or so of the pause,
my thoughts flew like lightning.

When Miss Fluette was carried from the Page library the previous da