very, very old. "I don't care much what happens to me, but my
daughter--Emily--"

"I'll take care of her, whatever happens!" Guy's heart was in his
buoyant voice. "But you'll be all right. Don't you worry! Haven't you
got Mr. Blaine on your side?"

"I'll try to see that you don't suffer for your enforced share in the
Lawton conspiracy, Brunell. It seems to me that you've already gone
through trouble enough on that score, great as was the damage you
half-unwittingly wrought," Blaine remarked, reassuringly--adding:
"But why didn't you come forward before, and give your testimony?"

"There wasn't any court action," the old man returned, hesitatingly.
"And besides, I was afraid to come forward and tell what I knew,
because of Emily. I would have done it, though, as soon as I learned
they had robbed Miss Lawton of everything. I wasn't sure of that, you
see."

"One thing more!" Blaine pressed the bell which would summon his
secretary. "Why, if you had reformed, did you keep in your possession
all these years your forging apparatus?"

"I had it taken care of for me while I served my term, meaning to use
it again when I came out. I was bitter and revengeful, and I meant to
do everybody up brown that I could. But when I was free and found
my--my wife had gone and left me Emily, it seemed like a hostage from
her gentle spirit given to the world, that I wouldn't do any more
wrong. I kept the plant because I didn't know how to dispose of it so
no one else could use it, and as the years went by, I got more and
more scared at the thought of it.

"I was afraid both ways--afraid it would be discovered, but more
afraid I'd be found out if I tried to get rid of it. So I buried it in
the cellar of my little shop and did my level best to forget it. I'd
almost succeeded when, God knows how, Paddington found me. You know
the rest."

"You rang, sir?" Marsh, the secretary, had entered noiselessly.

"Yes. Have these two people--this young lady and her father--conducted
in my own limousine to my house, and made comfortable there until I
give you further directions as to what I wish done concerning them."

Blaine cut short the old forger's broken words of gratitude in his
brusquely kind fashion, but his heart imaged always the light in the
girl's soft eyes as she bent a parting glance upon him, like a
benediction, before the door closed.

"What are you going to do with them, sir?" young Morrow asked
anxiously when they were alone.