Madam, I fear," was the serious
answer.

Book 3--The Flower

CHAPTER I

THE DEVIL SMILES

Stuart's appeal to the New York papers in behalf of Harriet was
successful. For a week he bought every morning and evening edition and
read them eagerly. Not a line appeared to darken the life of his little
pal.

Bivens's illness shook the financial world. The men who had professed
his friendship most loudly to his face now sharpened their knives for
his wounded body. Every stock with which his name was linked was the
target of the most savage attacks. The tumbling of values in his
securities carried down the whole market from five to six points in a
single day.

The great palace that had a few nights before blazed with lights and
echoed with music, laughter, song and dance and clinking glasses, stood
dark and silent behind its bristling iron fence.

Of all the fawning crowd that had thronged its portals to drink the
wine and toast the greatness of its master, not one was his friend
to-day. Each sycophant of yesterday was now a wolf prowling in the
shadows, awaiting the chance to tear his wounded body.

Within the darkened palace the doctors were supreme. In his great
library they held consultation after consultation and secretly smiled
when they thought of the figures they would write on his bills. They
disagreed in details, but all agreed on the main conclusion--that the
only hope was that he should quit work and play for several years.

When they made this solemn announcement to Bivens, he smiled for the
first time. It was too good a joke. How could he play? He knew but one
game, the big game of the man-hunt! He told his doctors politely but
firmly that they might go to hell, he would go to Europe and see if
there were doctors over there who knew anything.

The shaking miserable little figure staggered up the gang plank of a
steamer. He made a brave show of strength to the reporters who swarmed
about him for an interview and collapsed in the arms of his wife on
reaching his staterooms.

He had forgotten his resentment on account of Woodman in the presence
of the Great Terror, whose shadow had suddenly darkened the world, and
clung with pathetic eagerness to Stuart's friendship.

The young lawyer had said good-bye to Nan with a sense of profound
relief. From the bottom of his soul he thanked God she was going. It
had been impossible to keep away from her, and each day he had felt the
sheer physical