nto a face he ought to know full well, but which he now sees with
something of annoyance.

"Ah! professor, is it you? Sorry--in something of a hurry--"

"Hold on; some one wants to see you."

"Have to do later."

"Don't say so, John. Important, I tell you."

"So is this. Good-by."

The professor is not so easily shaken off, but tightens his hold. John
will have to dislodge him by muscular force.

"Are you coming?" asks the Sister.

"Yes, when I have broken loose from the hands of this madman."

He turns upon the professor.

"John, be careful. Cool off; you are excited."

"I'm of an age to take care of myself. When I need a guardian, I'll call
on you. Once more I say, release your grasp."

He actually looks ugly for the moment, and Philander does let go, but
it is only because, as an advance courier, he has accomplished his
mission, and not on account of any fear.

As Doctor Chicago turns to follow the Sister, he draws in a long breath,
for he finds himself face to face with Lady Ruth.

She has hurried up behind Philander, and near-by can be seen the British
soldier and Aunt Gwen, also pushing forward as rapidly as the assembling
crowd will allow.

"Doctor Craig."

Her presence recalls John to his senses.

"I am going to see my mother, Lady Ruth," he says, as if apologizing for
his rudeness.

"With whom?"

"This Sister."

Lady Ruth surveys the other from her vail to the hem of her dress.

"I would advise you not to do so, doctor."

"Why do you say that?" he asks, astonished.

"Because you will regret it, because you are being made the victim of
another plot."

"Lady Ruth, do I hear aright? Do you fully realize what it is you say?"

"I am conscious of the gravity of the charge, but that does not prevent
me from asserting it. I repeat what I said before, that you are again
the victim of a plot. As to this Sister here, can it be possible you do
not know her?"

He shakes his head.

"Have you seen her face?"

"It is old and shriveled--that of a stranger."

At this the Sister throws back her vail, and they see the features John
describes.

"After all I am right," says John, with the air of a man who attempts to
justify himself.

At that the English girl laughs scornfully.

"Really, I did not think men could be so easily deceived, and one whom
I considered as shrewd as you, Doctor Chicago. See what a miserable
deception, a fraud transferred from the boards of a New York theater to
Al