Paula did not believe her eyes. She could hardly have been more startled if she had seen a dead man suddenly come back to life. Here she had been busy making plans to go and console him in prison, and behold he walked in!

The lawyer's face was pale and serious, and his manner agitated. Certainly he had gone through an experience unpleasant enough to upset any man. The enemy had made a trap for him, and, like a fool, he had walked into it blindly. Arrested on an absurd charge while trying to raise more funds to carry on the case, he had been subjected to the most mortifying humiliation and annoyance, no doubt at the suggestion of the wily Mr. Cooley himself. Of course, he had no difficulty whatever in making an explanation so satisfactory that the Court at once dismissed the case, but then it was too late. The mischief was done. The reporters had the story, and the yellow extras with their exaggerated "scare heads" were already shrieking their way all over town. Who was responsible for this new outrage? Who was it that had informed Mr Cooley that he was trying to borrow money in order to engage the legal services of ex-Senator Wratchett? To Paula alone he had confided his plans. No, there was still another. Yes, he remembered it now. He had spoken of his intentions in the presence of Mr. Chase, the last time the young man had called at the house. No doubt he had betrayed them.

Disregarding Tod's presence, the lawyer advanced quickly towards Paula.

"Pardon my coming up without being announced," he said. "But I heard Mr. Chase was here, and I came straight in."

Paula's face lit up with pleasure. Hurrying forward and extending both her hands, she cried:

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you! We were just going to—to—the prison. Tell me how—when—did you——"

The attorney halted and pointed to Tod.

"First," he said severely, "dismiss that gentleman! While he is here I can say nothing."

Paula, surprised, looked from one to the other.

"Why," she exclaimed, "Mr. Chase is here to help us! He came with the news of your arrest, and he was going with me to get bail for you. He's our friend!"

"He is not your friend," retorted the lawyer indignantly. "Every word you utter, every action, every detail of your conversation, no matter how petty, is reported faithfully to Mr. Cooley—by this man."

Tod looked at Paula.

"Do you believe that?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"How else are they acquainted with all that happens here?" demanded Ricaby, trying to control his temper. Turning on Tod, he went on angrily: "You have called here almost every day, you've talked to Mrs. Parkes, to young Parkes; you've played the spy under pretence of friendship—and you can't deny it."

The young man shrugged his shoulders.

"You're quite right, Mr. Ricaby," he said calmly. "There are some things that a man can't stoop to deny, and this accusation is one of them."

"Then how can I explain it?" demanded the lawyer. "They knew that I was trying to raise money." Turning to Paula, he added: "They know of your engagement to young Parkes."

"There is no engagement," interrupted Paula quietly.

Mr. Ricaby looked searchingly at her as if trying to read what was in her thoughts. Then he went on:

"They know of your intention to fight your uncle's guardianship to the bitter end. They know your nervous condition. They know everything—even the fact that Dr. Zacharie comes here."

"I'm not surprised at that," exclaimed Paula. "I believe he was sent here by my uncle purposely to annoy and frighten me. He came here again to-day, but I got rid of him. I don't think he will come again so soon."

The lawyer grew thoughtful, then suddenly, as if a new idea had suddenly flashed into his mind he exclaimed:

"Ah! he did, eh? I don't like that man coming here so often. There is something in the wind. I don't know what. I intended to warn you."

He stopped for a moment, and then, looking at Tod, he said apologetically:

"The fact is, we hardly know friend from foe. I may be doing Mr. Chase a serious injustice. If so, I beg his pardon. We are fighting in the dark. We're fighting men without conscience or principle. We can't trust anyone. We dare not."

Paula turned to Tod.

"Will you give us your word?" she said, with an encouraging smile.

The young man looked at her reproachfully as he shook his head:

"No," he said, "that means you have some doubt. No, Miss Marsh, I won't give my word. It shouldn't be necessary. I guess I'll go. You're all right, Mr. Ricaby, you're doing your best, but you get rattled. You lose your head and you bark up the wrong tree. I guess that's where Cooley doubled up on you." Reaching the door, he turned round: "I'm sorry you don't believe me, Miss Marsh. I'll do all I can for you, but you're kinder tying my hands. Good day, Mr. Ricaby—good-bye, Miss Marsh, and good luck to you."

"Oh, don't go, Mr. Chase," exclaimed Paula, going towards him. "I don't believe——"

"Yes, I guess I'd better go," he replied doggedly, "he's your counsel. Good-bye!"

The door closed behind him. He was gone. Mr. Ricaby turned to the girl:

"Paula," he said earnestly, "we must trust no one. They won't stop at anything, as you see. They even had me arrested on a ridiculous charge. I was trying to borrow money—to carry on this case—to engage ex-Senator Wratchett. Mr. Chase knew this, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"You see, he knows everything. I'm afraid he's a spy."

The girl shook her head. She was too good a judge of human nature to be so easily deceived.

"I can't believe it," she said quietly. "I don't believe it."

"At all events," said the lawyer, "we dare not risk taking him into our confidence any more. Listen, I've raised the money, and I'm going to see Wratchett to-night."

"Why did they arrest you?"

"Because I overlooked the formality of having a certificate of shares endorsed over to me. As soon as I could get word to my friend, who loaned me the securities, he came down and the magistrate released me at once, but the stigma of arrest, of accusation, of prison, is there. That's what Cooley wants—to discredit me in court. Cooley knows that if he throws enough mud some of it is bound to stick."

The young girl made a gesture of discouragement. Sinking down in a chair at the table, she said wearily:

"Oh, I'm so tired of it all. Let's give it up, Mr. Ricaby. Let's go to my uncle and make the best bargain we can. I was hasty before. I'll be more patient this time."

The lawyer shook his head.

"Now that I have the sinews of war?" he cried. "No! We'll win out; you'll see. They must be pretty desperate when they resort to such tactics as false arrest. No, by God! I'm going to stick to them now."

Paula walked to the window, and, drawing aside the curtain, gazed thoughtfully into the street below.

"Isn't there some way out of it?" she demanded. "If, for instance, I married—my husband——"

The lawyer started, choked back something that rose in his throat, and hesitatingly said:

"No, you must obtain the consent of the Court or of your guardian. It would make new complications, application of annulment—oh, innumerable opportunities to harass you. No—I—I am opposed to the idea of marriage, Paula."

"I hope you don't think that I have Mr. Parkes in mind?" she smiled.

"Pshaw!" he exclaimed impatiently. "Do you suppose I pay any attention to that old woman's idle chatter? I don't know whom you have in your mind, but I have too much respect for your intelligence to imagine for a moment that it is Mr. Parkes."

He stopped and looked wistfully at her. Did he dare reveal to this girl what had been so long in his heart? At last, summoning up courage, he said in a low, diffident tone:

"If I could only think that it was I——"

Startled, she looked at him in amazement. Impulsively, he went on:

"There! I have spoken at last, Paula, after all these years. I didn't intend to say anything. This is no time to speak of such matters, but——"

Eagerly he scanned her delicate and sensitive face, trying to read there some response that would satisfy his longing, but her manner was grave and her voice perfectly calm and passionless, as she answered kindly:

"I had no idea that you thought of me in that way. I am sorry, Mr. Ricaby. I have regarded you as a life-long friend—nothing more. I can never forget what you have done for me. I shall always be grateful for your friendship and untiring devotion. That I can never repay."

Chilled, the lawyer drew back instinctively. There was no mistaking that indifferent, matter-of-fact tone. Bitterly he said:

"Yes, I understand. I have always felt that. I have inspired you with feelings of kindliness, gratitude, friendship. But love? No. That you reserve for some more fortunate man."

"Don't say that, Mr. Ricaby," she replied gently. "There is no other man, I assure you. I would not hurt your feelings for the world, but you know we can't always control these things ourselves. I admire you immensely—I respect you more than any man I know."

Eagerly he darted forward and took her hand.

"Do you give me hope?" he murmured.

She turned away her head as she answered:

"Don't let us speak of this now. You can understand that in this present moment of great anxiety I hardly know what I am doing or saying. I can never forget what I owe you. Any woman should be proud to be your wife."

The lawyer shook his head.

"A woman who really loves does not stop to reason. You might be willing to repay what I've done for you by making me happy, but that is not what I ask. What I have done for you is nothing. It is not such a debt that you should sacrifice your whole life in repaying it. If there can be no other consideration than that, I prefer that our relations should remain as they are." Suddenly turning on her, he demanded:

"Are you sure there is no other?"

The girl shook her head.

"No," she said positively. "There is no other."

"Then I'll hope against hope," he said hoarsely, "and until your suit is settled I promise you not to mention the subject again."

Going to the table he took his hat and gloves. Then coming back to where she was, he held out his hand:

"Good-bye," he said. "I am going now to Albany. It is a trip that I can't put off any longer. I can't stop to explain what the business is, but it is important and concerns your case. Of course, my every movement is watched, and while I am away they may try to take advantage of my absence by annoying you in some way, so you'd better keep in the house. Bolt yourself in and decline to see anyone, no matter who it is. Above all, don't have anything to do with Mr. Chase. Instinctively I distrust that man."

"Do you? I'm sorry for that," she said, shaking her head. With a deep sigh, she added: "I'm beginning to dread being here alone. I think I'll leave this place. I'm not myself at all lately. Come back as soon as you can. Sometimes I think it would be best for me to go to my uncle and put an end to the whole wretched proceedings."

The lawyer shook his head in protest, and, taking his hat and coat, went towards the door.

"No, we're going to win out, Paula," he said decisively. "You'll see. I trusted to ordinary legal procedure, to the equity and justice of the case. Now I'll adopt their tactics and fight them with their own weapons. Cheer up, Paula, we're in sight of victory. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Mr. Ricaby," she said, holding out her hand. "Don't worry about me—I shall be all right."

"Good-bye, Paula," he said, with a smile. "Wish me a safe return."

"God knows I do, dear friend!" she said earnestly.

The young girl carefully bolted the door after him, and, returning to the window, stood looking after her attorney until he disappeared from view. The weather was threatening. Big drops of rain, driven slantwise by gusts of wind, were making the passers-by run hastily to cover.

She was sorry he had spoken. Never had she dreamed that he thought of her in that way. She was sorry for him, because he deserved to be happy. She was grateful to him, but in her heart she knew well that it was useless to hold out any hope. She could never love him. It was too bad that he had spoken. Now their relations would not be so pleasant. There would be embarrassment on both sides. The delightful friendly intimacy of the past must cease. She had lost her best friend.

Was any girl so unfortunate and so unhappy before? Here she was locked up in this depressing boarding house, afraid to go out for fear that her uncle might try to kidnap her and do her some harm. For some unexplained reason she felt horribly nervous and low-spirited. Whether it was because Mr. Ricaby had left her all alone she did not know, but she felt herself growing more and more nervous. If only Tod would come to cheer her up. Suddenly, as she stood looking disconsolately through the window, her gaze became riveted on a figure which she noticed standing in a doorway opposite. It was a man with a slouch hat pulled well down over his eyes, and it seemed to her that she recognized Dr. Zacharie. He appeared to be watching the house. Instinctively, she shrank back and when she looked again he had disappeared.

She laughed nervously to herself. How foolish she was! Why should Dr. Zacharie watch the house? She was surely mistaken. No doubt it was some stranger sheltering from the rain. If she kept seeing things like that she would soon make herself ill. With a forced effort at gaiety she essayed to throw off her melancholy by humming a song, but soon stopped, unable to continue. Sitting down at the piano, her fingers had just touched the keys when all at once there was a knock at the door. Paula rose and opened. It was Mrs. Parkes.

"You're wanted at the telephone, my dear," said the landlady.

"Who is it?" demanded Paula.

"Mr. Chase."

Paula hesitated.

"Mr. Chase—I—I can't go—make some excuse."

"Shall I take the message?" asked Mrs. Parkes.

Remembering Mr. Ricaby's parting admonition Paula shook her head.

"No—I—must not receive any message," she replied.

As she spoke she was standing in a position commanding a view of the street. Suddenly she started back in consternation and beckoned to the landlady.

"Mrs. Parkes, come here, quick!"

Pointing out of the window, she said:

"Do you see that man standing on the corner—the one looking up here? I don't want him to see me. Who is it? Tell me."

"It's Dr. Zacharie with some stranger," said the landlady, peering out.

"Ah, I thought so!" exclaimed the young girl excitedly. "I was sure of it. He seems to be watching, doesn't he—watching the house?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Parkes, looking again, "it's the doctor all right, with another gentleman—the gentleman who was here before. Why, there's three of them!"

"Three of them!" echoed Paula, dismayed.

Fearfully, she looked over Mrs. Parkes' shoulder.

"Yes, I see. It's my uncle and Mr. Cooley. They're pointing at this house and whispering together. What can they want?" Frightened, she turned to the landlady: "Mrs. Parkes, don't let anyone into this house to-night, do you hear? What can they be doing?"

"They seem to be waiting for someone."

"Don't let them see you looking," cried the girl, becoming more and more nervous. "Careful—don't let them see you! This is some new move! They know Mr. Ricaby has gone to Albany. Oh, what can I do?"

"Why, what are you afraid of, my dear?" demanded the landlady, surprised.

"I don't know," replied the trembling girl, in a frightened whisper, "only—don't let them in, Mrs. Parkes. Whatever you do, don't let them in!"

"Why, my dear!" exclaimed the old lady; "what ails you? Whatever is the matter, your hands are as cold as ice—what is it?"

"I don't know," gasped the other. "I can't explain even to myself, but I don't want to see that man again—don't leave me, Mrs. Parkes."

"But I want to go and give Mr. Chase your message," said the other.

"Mr. Chase—oh, yes!" cried Paula. "Tell him I want to see him—tell him to come here at once! I can't be entirely alone. I must see Mr. Chase. Tell him to come at once!"

Before the landlady could obey, however, there was a loud peal of the front door bell. Paula turned pale.

"It must be those men!" she exclaimed. "Look out! Can you see them there now?"

Mrs. Parkes hurried to the window and looked out.

"No," she said, "they're gone."

In the hall outside was the sound of footsteps and voices.

"They've come for me!" cried Paula, in an agony of fear. "They've come for me! He said he would, and he has." Wringing her hands, she cried: "Why did Mr. Ricaby go away! I'll go to my room—they dare not come there—they dare not."

Rushing into her room, she shut the door and locked it. Mrs. Parkes went to the door and only partly opened it.

"Miss Marsh cannot see anyone," she said, trying to shut the door in the intruders' faces.

Outside was heard Bascom Cooley's loud, coarse voice:

"But she must see us—she must. It's the mandate of the court!"

Someone pushed the door open. Mrs. Parkes, unable to resist, fell back. Bascom Cooley entered, followed by Jimmy Marsh and Harry Parkes.