amer could get a word with him.

The case had been decided in favour of Prescott's client, and he
strode into the robing-room with a little natural elation. But no
sooner did he catch sight of his friend, who was waiting for him
there, than his whole manner changed, and a stern expression settled
round the corners of his mouth.

It was their first meeting since the result of Eleanor's trial. They
were alone in the room, and Prescott at once addressed the other:

'Tressamer, what have you to say for yourself? I told you yesterday
that I should hold you responsible. You disobeyed my advice, and that
of everybody else. You set the judge and jury against you, and the
result is what you were told it would be. I gave you fair warning, and
I tell you now that, unless you have some reason for your conduct of
which I know nothing, I cannot look upon you as a friend.'

Tressamer pinched in his lips hard as he listened to this.

'I might have expected it,' he said. 'We all know that love is
stronger than friendship. The first woman that likes can break up the
strongest attachments of some men.'

'Silence!' cried Prescott. 'I am not going to bandy retorts with you.
Ever since we were boys I have liked you and befriended you, and borne
with your waywardness. You have outraged all your other friends long
ago, but I bore with everything till now. But this is too much. Where
a life is at stake, to indulge in your freaks of eccentricity! It is
murder morally. What are you better than the man who killed that
wretched woman?'

Tressamer shook with anger.

'Be careful, Prescott! I will stand a great deal from you, but you are
going too far now. You know as well as I do that her life is in no
danger. What is old Buller's opinion worth on a criminal case? Wiseman
is worth ten of him, and he is in our favour. The C.C.R. will save
her.'

'Wretched man! Have you no heart, no moral sense, that you talk like
that? As if a mere escape on a technical point could give any comfort
to a woman like her! One would think you were wanting in some
ingredient of human nature. What does Eleanor herself say?'

'I haven't seen her,' was the muttered reply.

'Haven't seen her! Then go at once, and get her authority to appear.'

'I have been to the prison, but she won't see me. I suppose she is
ill.'

A look of positive pleasure crossed the face of the elder man.

'Ill--no, but innocent!' he exclaimed. 'I can understand her refusing
to see you.