m forger; he observed Mr. Harley's growing sense of helplessness as
he, Storri, set forth how Mr. Harley lay in the toils. Now, when Mr.
Harley was prostrate beneath the harrow of every alarm, Storri, sure of
success, went off on an easier tack--that is, easier for Mr. Harley.

"But why do we lose our self-control?" cried Storri, voice and manner
changed from black to white, clouds to sunshine; "we are men, not angry
children! See, now, I want nothing a gentleman of honor might not grant.
I love your daughter--good! a Russian nobleman loves your daughter! Is
that disgrace? You approve; your wife approves! The daughter is young;
she must be wooed before she is won. What then: Is Storri to despair?
The lady would put Storri's love to the test. She says: 'You must court
me before you shall wed me. You are not to have me without a struggle,
lest you think me of small worth.' The lady has pride; the lady has
discretion; the lady sets a value upon herself. Why should she not? It
compels me, Storri, to appreciate her charms still more and more. There;
I have painted the state of affairs. I have now but two requests; I will
not call those requests commands," and Storri rustled the French shares
suggestively. "No, I am to call them requests. Can you not exercise a
paternal authority to have your daughter receive my respectful visits?
Also, can you not exercise it to put an end, absolutely an end, to her
interviews with this Mr. Storms?"

"How can I compel her?"

"You must do it!" roared Storri, his anger taking renewed edge. "You
must, you shall! What! am I to be thwarted, affronted, undone by a girl?
Two things I demand: she is to see me; and she is not to see that
Storms. Do I ask much? It is little for a child to pay for a father's
safety; little for a man to pay for his own. What forger or what
forger's daughter has made such terms? Bah!"

The insult scarcely roused Mr. Harley; he was stunned, his face was
clammy with sweat. It was like a dream of horror! Look where he would,
there showed but the one door of escape. Storri was to see Dorothy;
Dorothy was not to see Richard!

After all, it did not present unbearable conditions. Moreover, time
would bring about its shifts. In a week, in a month, in six months, Mr.
Harley might have Storri helpless as Storri now had him. It was a case
for delay; Mr. Harley must have breathing space.

"That is all you require?" said Mr. Harley, his voice the same dry,
husky croak. "You are