came straight
across the room to where we were sitting.

"Griggs," he said, in a low voice, "will you come with me for a moment?"
I sprang to my feet. John laid his hand upon my arm; he was very pale.
"Don't look as though anything were the matter," he added.

Accordingly I sauntered across the room, and made a show of stopping a
moment before the fire to warm my hands and listen to the general
conversation that was going on there. Presently I walked away, and John
followed me. As I passed, I looked at the professor, who seemed already
absorbed in listening to one of Chrysophrasia's speeches. He did not
return my glance, and I left the room with my friend. A moment later we
were in his study. A student's lamp with a green shade burned steadily
upon the table, and there was a bright fire on the hearth. A huge
writing-table filled the centre of the room, covered with papers and
pamphlets. John did not sit down, but stood leaning back against a heavy
bookcase, with one hand behind him.

"Griggs," he said, and his voice trembled with excitement, "I am going
to ask you a favor, and in order to ask it I am obliged to take you into
my confidence."

"I am ready," said I. "You can trust me."

"Since you were here last, very painful things have occurred. In
consequence of the death of her eldest son, and of certain circumstances
attending it which I need not, cannot, detail, my wife's sister, Madame
Patoff, became insane about eighteen months ago. Professor Cutter
chanced to be with her at the time, and informed me at once. Her
husband, as you know, died twenty years ago, and Paul was away, so that
Cutter was so good as to take care of her. He said her only chance of
recovery lay in being removed to her native country and carefully
nursed. Thank God, I am rich. I received her here, and she has been here
ever since. Do not look surprised. For the sake of all I have taken
every precaution to keep her absolutely removed from us, though we visit
her from time to time. Cutter told me that dreadful story of her trying
to kill herself in Suabia. He has just informed me that it was you who
saved both her life and his with your rope,--not knowing either of them.
I need not tell you my gratitude."

John paused, and grasped my hand; his own was cold and moist.

"It was nothing," I said. "I did not even incur any danger; it was
Cutter who risked his life."

"No matter," continued Carvel. "It was you who saved them both. From
that