ht before last he had a message and everything was
hidden. He spent hours with his face to the window, watching. I am
so afraid that sometimes he goes outside the law. Arnold, I am
afraid of what might happen to him. There are terrible things in his
face if I ask him questions. And he moves about and mutters like a
man in a dream--no, like a man in a nightmare!"

Arnold frowned, and looked up at the sky-signs upon the other side
of the river.

"I, too, wish he were different, dear," he said. "He certainly is a
dangerous protector for you."

"He is the only one I have," the girl replied, with a sigh, "and
sometimes, when he remembers, he is so kind. But that is not often
now."

"What do you do when he is away for all this time?" Arnold asked
quickly. "Are you properly looked after? You ought to have some one
here."

"Mrs. Sands comes twice a day, always," she declared. "It is not
myself I trouble about, really. Isaac is good in that way. He pays
Mrs. Sands always in advance. He tries even to buy wine for me, and
he often brings me home fruit. When he has money, I am sure that he
gives it to me. It isn't that so much, Arnold, but I get frightened
of his getting into trouble. Now that room of his has got on my
nerves. When I hear that tap, tap, in the night, I am terrified."

"Will you let me speak to him about it, Ruth?"

Her face was suddenly full of terror.

"Arnie, you mustn't think of it," she begged. "He would never
forgive me--never. The first time I asked him what was going on
there, I thought that he would have struck me."

"Would you like me to go in and see next time he is out?"

She shivered.

"Not for the world," she replied. "Besides, you couldn't. He has
fixed on a Yale lock himself. No one could open the door."

"You have never seen what he prints?"

"Never," she replied. "He knows that I hate the sight of those
pamphlets. He never shows them to me. He had a man to see him the
other night--the strangest-looking man I ever saw--and they talked
in whispers for hours. I saw the man's face when he went out. It was
white and evil. And, Arnold, it was the face of a man steeped in sin
to the lips. I wish I hadn't seen it," she went on, drearily. "It
haunts me."

He did his best to reassure her.

"Little Ruth," he said, "you have been up here too long without a
holiday. Wait till Saturday afternoon, when I draw my new salary for
the first time. I shall hire a taxicab. We will have it open and