from its king."

"Yes, truly he is vile," returned Nelly. "But women of my class, born and
bred in the slums of life, do not measure a man by his virtues, but by
their love of him. I know not how it is, nor why, but this I know, we
love because of what we give, and the more we give, the more we love."

"I fear the same is true of all women," answered Frances, with a sigh.
"If a woman could but say to her heart, 'Thou shalt' and 'Thou shalt
not,' there would be fewer unhappy women in this world."

"Oh, do you, too, know that awful truth?" exclaimed Nelly, eagerly
bringing her hands to Frances's shoulders. "Tell me all about it. There
is nothing sweeter than to hear the troubles of a friend. They help to
make our own seem smaller. Tell me."

"I cannot," answered Frances, now as woebegone as Nelly herself. "It is
too terrible even to think upon, yet I think of nothing else. A woman may
love a man to the point of madness and still hate him."

"But it is not the king you love?" cried Nelly, in alarm.

"No, no, Nelly. You have my word. But let us talk of something else,"
answered Frances.

"No, no, let us talk about you," insisted Nelly, whose curiosity was
equalled only by her good nature.

"Not another word," returned Frances. "Don't you want to go to the barge
for a ride on the river?" And Nelly eagerly assented.

When they were seated in the barge, Nelly's waterman asked her where he
should take them, and she proposed going to the Bridge, leaving the barge
at the Bridge stairs, and walking up Gracious Street to the Old Swan
Tavern for dinner. Frances liked the plan and accepted Nelly's invitation
to dinner--and to trouble.

CHAPTER V

THE FIGHT AT THE OLD SWAN

On the way down to the Bridge, inquisitive, irresistible Nelly drew out
of Frances a meagre statement of her case. Although Nelly could not write
her own name, she was excellent at putting two and two together, and on
this occasion quickly reached the conclusion that there was a man whom
Frances had good reason to hate, but loved.

Without suspecting that Roger Wentworth's death bore any relation to
Frances's trouble, Nelly soon began asking questions about the tragedy,
and learned that Frances had recognized one of the highwaymen. When
Frances refused in a marked and emphatic manner to describe the man
she had seen, or to speak of him beyond the first mention, Nelly began
again with her two-and-two problem, and, as the result of her second