s he coming?"

"Yes, he's just been to my digs. Came in his car. Auntie, do you know
that he's accusing me of stealing your money--and--and--all sorts of
things! I don't want to hide anything from you. It's true I was with
Rachel at the cinematograph last night, but--"

Mrs. Maldon raised her enfeebled, shaking hand.

"Louis!" she entreated. His troubled, ingenuous face seemed to torture
her.

"I know it's a shame to bother you, auntie. But what was I to do? He's
coming up here. I only want to tell you I've not got your money. I've
not stolen it. I'm absolutely innocent--absolutely. And I'll swear it
on anything you like." His voice almost broke under the strain of its
own earnestness. His plaintive eyes invoked justice and protection.
Who could have doubted that he was sincere in this passionate, wistful
protestation of innocence?

"Louis!" Mrs. Maldon entreated again, committing herself to naught,
taking no side, but finding shelter beneath the enigmatic, appealing
repetition of his name. It was the final triumph of age over crude
youth. "Louis!"

IV

Rachel stood expectant and watchful in the kitchen. She was now filled
with dread. She wanted to go up and waken Mrs. Tams, but was too
proud. The thought had come into her mind: "His coming like this has
something to do with the money. Perhaps he wasn't sulking with me
after all. Perhaps ..." But what it was that she dreaded she could
not have defined. And then she caught the sound of an approaching
automobile. The car threw its shadow across the glazed front door,
which she commanded from the kitchen, and stopped. And the front-door
bell rang uncannily over her head. She opened the door to Councillor
Batchgrew, whose breathing was irregular and rapid.

"Has Louis Fores been here?" Batchgrew asked.

"He's upstairs now with Mrs. Maldon."

Without warning, Thomas Batchgrew strode into the house and straight
upstairs. His long whiskers sailed round the turn of the stairs and
disappeared. Rachel was somewhat discomfited, and very resentful.
But her dread was not thereby diminished. "They'll kill the old lady
between them if they don't take care," she thought.

The next instant Louis appeared at the head of the stairs. With
astounding celerity Rachel slipped into the parlour. She could not
bear to encounter him in the lobby--it was too narrow. She heard Louis
come down the stairs, saw him take his hat from the oak chest and
heard him open the front gate. I