the attention of
M. Fille, who raised his head reprovingly--he could not get rid of the
feeling that he was in court, and that a case was being tried; and the
severity of a Judge is naught compared with the severity of a Clerk of
the Court, particularly if he is small and unmarried, and has no one to
beat him into manageable humanity.

M. Fille's voice was almost querulous.

"If you will but be patient, monsieur! I saw a man with a woman in his
arms, and I fear that I must mention the name of the man. It is not
necessary to give the name of the woman, but I have it written here"--he
tapped the paper--"and there is no mistake in the identity. The man's
name is George Masson, master-carpenter, of the town of Laplatte in the
province of Quebec."

George Masson was as one hit between the eyes. He made a motion as
though to ward off a blow. "Name of Peter, old cock!" he exclaimed
abruptly. "You saw enough certainly, if you saw that, and you needn't
mention the lady's name, as you say. The evidence is not merely
circumstantial. You saw it with your own eyes, and you are an official
of the Court, and have the ear of the Judge, and you look like a saint
to a jury. Well for sure, I can't prove defamation of character, as you
say. But what then--what do you want?"

"What I want I hope you may be able to grant without demur, monsieur.
I want you to give your pledge on the Book"--he laid his hand on
a Testament lying on the table--"that you will hold no further
communication with the lady."

"Where do you come inhere? What's your standing in the business?"
Masson jerked out his words now. The Clerk of the Court made a reproving
gesture. "Knowing what I did, what I had seen, it was clear that I must
approach one or other of the parties concerned. Out of regard for the
lady I could not approach her husband, and so betray her; out of regard
for the husband I could not approach himself and destroy his peace; out
of regard for all concerned I could not approach the lady's father, for
then--"

Masson interrupted with an oath.

"That old reprobate of Cadiz--well no, bagosh!

"And so you whisked me into your office with the talk of urgent business
and--"

"Is not the business urgent, monsieur?"

"Not at all," was the sharp reply of the culprit.

"Monsieur, you shock me. Do you consider that your conduct is not
criminal? I have here"--he placed his hand on a book--"the Statutes of
Victoria, and it lays down with wholesome se