and Page
had been sitting, and the safe. Consequently you were encouraged by
the assurance that the scope of your search would be restricted.

"I believe you argued correctly. And to keep you out of further
mischief, or from setting your precious Burmese upon me again, why, you
may stay here a while and think over it."

Despite his protestations, when I left headquarters the last glimpse I
had of him was through the bars of a cell door.

I went directly to the Fluette residence to inform Genevieve that her
apprehensions and uncertainties had at last crystallized into dread
reality. I shall not dwell upon this wretched conference; it is quite
enough to say that the poor girl was torn with grief, yet not wholly
convinced.

"Knowles,"--she was clinging to my arm, her voice hoarse and
distressed,--"it is too terrible--too monstrous for belief. I can not
do it--can't believe it--unless I hear the words from Uncle Alfred's
own lips. He is here now; he did n't go down-town to-day. The
horrible charge has been made--confront him with it. He's up-stairs
with Aunt Clara."

"Very well," I quietly returned. "You go and ask him, as calmly as
possible, to come down to his study. Don't alarm Miss Belle or her
mother; it may not be necessary."

Moving blindly toward the stairs, she paused on the first landing and
turned to me a tragic face.

"Courage!" I whispered.

Then she found the strength to carry her on to the end of her revulsive
errand. I went direct to the study, and waited.

Fluette came in hastily, his manner wild, his face white and haggard.
Genevieve, distressed and heart-broken, followed close behind him. She
closed the door. The man began speaking at once, incoherently, in a
harsh, strident whisper that signified constricted throat muscles.

"So! It's come at last! You--keep it from--from--my God! keep it from
my wife and daughter!"

I answered him roughly, in an attempt to keep him from breaking
completely down.

"Pull yourself together, man! What sort of way is this to act?" I
surveyed his abject figure an instant, then added with some bitterness:
"It is not I that you fear, but your own conscience."

I was thinking of the women.

He slumped into a chair, clasped his out-stretched hands upon the
writing-table, and allowed his head to droop between his arms. At that
moment I heard Belle calling "Papa!" She was running lightly down the
stairs. Again she called, and I knew that she w