On the second day of the inquiry public excitement and interest reached a higher pitch than ever, when it became known that Mr. Mainwaring would occupy the greater part of the morning in refuting the evidence given, and in protesting against the legality of the warrant.

Considering how positive had been the evidence, even of Miss Hildreth's own friends, it was difficult to see what possible line of argument the young lawyer could take, with any surety of success. Mrs. Newbold's testimony had disposed effectually of any doubts as to the identity of Miss Hildreth with that of the governess at the Folly—AdÈle Lamien—and with this fact established irrefutably, was not Miss Hildreth's complicity in the murder of Stevan Lallovich a foregone conclusion?

The suborning of Miss Hildreth's particular friends against her had certainly been a master stroke on Mr. Munger's part; how could John Mainwaring confute such a mass of convicting testimony? Of course he was bound to make a brave fight for his client; but—and here the public shrugged its shoulders collectively—they were sorry for him, and sorry for the poor figure he must inevitably cut; and then went to work to show their sorrow by discussing Patricia's guilt as a proved premise, and her probable fate only a question of time.

John Mainwaring had once again sought Miss Hildreth, and, with every argument he could bring to bear, every pleading of rhetoric and common-sense, entreated her to reconsider her decision, and loose him from that promise of reservation respecting one point in her confession.

But Patricia was not to be moved one jot or tittle. She heard him to the end in silence, sitting, as Philip had last seen her, at the little table, her hands clasped upon it, and leaning slightly forward. Her face looked worn and sad, her eyes pathetic in their weariness, but the beautiful lips were set in firm decision, their expression one of dauntless courage and endurance.

The sweet, pungent perfume of the MarÉchal Niel roses, grouped together in a tall glass vase, filled the heavy atmosphere with overpowering sweetness. She waited until John Mainwaring had quite finished speaking, and then said, slowly, and with the musical notes of her voice less reverberant than usual:

"No, Mr. Mainwaring, I cannot alter my decision; I cannot give you leave to drag my poor secret out into the light of day; not, believe me, on my own account, but on his. To you only have I opened my whole heart—you alone know my weakness and my strength. For my own part, I should care very little how much was known of my motives; but for him—for Philip Tremain—I could not bear the thought and live, that, through me, and my love, he should be exposed to public ridicule. Ah, Mr. Mainwaring, was it for nothing, do you think, that I sat through those long, terrible hours yesterday, and heard the murmurs of the crowd, their open comments, their cruel innuendoes, their still more cruel laughter? Do I not know how eagerly they would seize upon my poor secret, and, tearing it limb from limb, dissect it and discuss it, in their cold, cruel, analysing fashion, until even the garment of reverence that clothes all love, however poor and mean, was torn from it, and it lay revealed—a poor denuded passion in tatters? Do you think he could bear that? Do you think Philip Tremain could hold up his head against such disgrace? Would he not despise and hate the one who brought it upon him, and would he not have reason to cast from him for ever all memory or recollection of such an one? Could I plead anything in extenuation to him—then? No; better, far better, the worst fate that can befall me than to clear myself in the eyes of the world, at the expense of sinking for ever in the estimation of him, to gain whose love I have placed myself in so terrible a position."

John Mainwaring made no reply; indeed, what answer could he make to such passionless reasoning as this? Whenever he was brought face to face with Patricia, and listened to her clear, calm voice, he felt himself carried away by the very attitude of her pleading. He saw things only from her point of view, and was ready to acquiesce and agree with her, however over-strained he considered her arguments. But when he was away from her, and without the radius of her personal influence, he was apt to anathematise himself in unparliamentary language, and to wish Miss Hildreth's selection of a lawyer had fallen on some one less susceptible to impressions.

"Since you give me no option, Miss Hildreth," he said presently, somewhat sullenly, "I must perforce make the best of my material; but, I warn you, my reasoning will sound very weak after yesterday's testimony, and Munger is sure to pounce upon its weakest point, in substantiation of which I have nothing to advance—positively nothing."

"I am very sorry for you, Mr. Mainwaring, believe me," she answered, earnestly, "and very grateful; but I cannot change my mind."

Then he had gone away, and for many long minutes Miss Hildreth sat as he had left her, her hands outstretched upon the table, her face quiet and expressionless, save for the close set curve of the mobile lips.

John Mainwaring, on leaving Miss Hildreth, walked quickly to his office, not in the most enviable frame of mind. As he entered the outer room, his clerk came forward and whispered a few words to him, then preceding him to the inner office, opened the door and held it back for Mainwaring to enter. As he did so, a dark figure rose up from the depths of a lounging chair, and advanced towards him. The brilliant sunshine from the outer room struck full athwart the stranger's face, and revealed the features of the Italian, Mattalini; then the door swung to, and the clerk returned to his desk in the full glare of the hot sunshine.

By ten o'clock the court-room was again filled to overflowing, apparently with the identical crowd of the day before. The battalion of fashionable ladies showed an increase of recruits, and the knot of lawyers gathered about the Bench was augmented in numbers. Close beside the railed off space, sat Mrs. Newbold and Dick Darling, while not far off, engaged in earnest conversation, were Mr. Tremain and Mainwaring.

Again there arose the concentrated murmur of many voices as Miss Hildreth took her place within the rails, and at the same moment Judge Anstice walked quietly to his seat on the Bench; and so began the second act in the tragic drama.

Mr. Munger intimated to his honour that his part in the proceedings had terminated with yesterday's evidence; which, he repeated, was in itself sufficient to incriminate a dozen suspects, and to prove a dozen prim facie cases. Bearing this in mind, it was not necessary for him to recapitulate it in detail, or indeed to make any comments upon it. The point at issue was the identity of the lady arrested with the person named in the warrant as AdÈle Lamien, or Lallovich. Yesterday's evidence—that of Miss Hildreth's intimate friends, and especially Mrs. Newbold's—had conclusively established that point; there could therefore be no hesitancy in proclaiming the warrant a valid one, and surrendering the lady up to the Russian Government. As to the guilt or innocence of AdÈle Lamien, or Lallovich, in the affair of Count Stevan's murder, they were not called to pronounce upon; she must take her trial on that charge in the country where the crime was committed. The only point they were called upon to prove, was the legality of the warrant papers, and the identity of the person arrested; this point having been substantiated beyond question, he could not see any cause for further delay in the matter.

And then Mr. Munger sat down with an ugly triumphant frown on his rough-hewn face, and out flew a shower of his favourite paper pellets.

The silence that followed was intense. The hot summer sun beating in through the bare windows fell across a sea of expectant, excited faces, all turned in one direction, towards the slight, dark, upright figure seated within the railed off space. She, who, as the rich and beautiful Miss Hildreth, had been the object of their covetous envy, and who now, as AdÈle Lamien, stood charged with so vile a complicity in crime as to separate her for ever from the poorest and lowest of that onlooking multitude, beside whose poverty and honesty her wealth and beauty fell away in torn and soiled fragments.

In the midst of this silence John Mainwaring arose to address the Bench.

Mr. Mainwaring's face was at all times non-committal, it wore now an absolutely sphinx-like imperturbability. Tossing back the heavy lock of black hair that fell over his forehead, and squaring his shoulders with a motion that bespoke both doggedness and obstinacy, Mr. Mainwaring's first words fell upon the listening audience with ringing distinctness, and with sudden, unexpected surprise.

"His learned friend," he said, "had proved, beyond all shadow of doubt, the question of Miss Hildreth's identity with the lady, who, as governess to Mrs. Newbold's little daughter, was known as AdÈle Lamien. It was not a point upon which they could for one moment disagree; he had no reason or desire to raise issue upon it; in fact, he not only acknowledged the identity, but had been cognizant of it from the outset. Miss Hildreth herself had no wish to dispute it; so far, indeed, from that being the case, he desired particularly to impress upon his honour the absolute truth of the assertion. Miss Hildreth was one and the same person as that AdÈle Lamien, who became Marianne Newbold's governess. He wished to keep this fact distinctly before them; it was a very important fact, as he would show them before he had finished."

At this uncalculated-upon acceptance of their theory, both Mr. Munger and Count Mellikoff showed signs of perturbation. They had not, at any one of their conferences upon the line Mainwaring was likely to take up, imagined so bold an expedient as his flitching from them the very corner-stone of their plan, and building upon it such an edifice as should best suit his requirements. It was a decidedly clever move, and sent John Mainwaring up in Mr. Munger's estimation at a bound.

"Well, then," continued Patricia's defender, "that point well established, he would go on to the next; and here he must just remind them of Mr. Munger's concise recapitulation of the case. They were not there on any other business than that of proving, or disproving, the legality of the warrant on which Miss Hildreth had been arrested, as also of proving the identity of Miss Hildreth with that of AdÈle Lamien, or Lallovich, named in the warrant, who was charged with complicity in the murder of her husband, Count Stevan Lallovich. This was the only point at issue; all other points were extraneous, and they need not trouble themselves about them. Now, while he acknowledged frankly that Mr. Munger had proved the identity of Miss Hildreth with that of the person received and known at the Folly as AdÈle Lamien, he desired humbly to submit one question to his honour. In establishing the validity of this identity, how had they proved the identity of the AdÈle Lamien—Mrs. Newbold's governess—with that of the AdÈle Lamien, or Lallovich, who had murdered her quasi-husband, Count Stevan? He unhesitatingly declared that they had not established such identity in any particular.

"They had heard," he said, "a great deal of testimony, all of which had been cited only to prove that Miss Hildreth and the governess at the Folly were one and the same. That was not at all difficult to prove, because Miss Hildreth had never for one moment denied the impeachment; but he must say he failed to see how proving that, proved also her identity with the cast-off wife of the dissolute young Russian noble, Stevan Lallovich; and until such identity was established, he certainly should protest against the accused being delivered up to the tender mercies of the Russian authorities. He would not call into question the truth of the facts and details, concerning the murder, as related to them—they could all be verified if necessary; but it was not necessary. Undoubtedly the poor deserted woman had committed the crime imputed to her—it would be but a savage justice after all. With that he had nothing to do; but when it came to the arrest of a lady, an American citizen, in her own country, on the charge of so grave a crime, it behoved that country to be very careful in its investigations, and to leave no stone unturned to come at the actual truth. It was a terrible alternative, that of handing over a fellow-countryman to the despotic treatment of a foreign Power, and before such a thing was made possible, every item of extenuation should be urged in behalf of the accused.

"He had listened to every word of the evidence, and while in every instance he could lay his finger on weak links, he would pass them all over, and recall only to his honour the substance of Miss James's, and Mr. Tremain's, statements. The former had dwelt mostly upon the evidence of her own eyes, and upon the nature of an interview which had taken place between Mrs. Newbold's governess and Mr. Tremain. Miss James had not hesitated to affirm that she recognised in the lady's face, despite artistic accessories, the countenance and features of Miss Hildreth. Mr. Tremain, on the contrary, assured them positively that he had never at any time during his visit at the Folly, entertained the slightest suspicion of this identity; it was not until after Miss Hildreth's arrest that this complication was made known to him, and Miss Hildreth, to whom he appealed for confirmation or reputation, refused to reply. Miss Hildreth had her own reasons for thus treating the matter.

"He would next ask them to listen to a very strange chapter in this strange story, and if it appeared incredible and beyond possibility, he must beg them to remember that truth was often stranger than fiction.

"Early in the autumn of the last year Miss Hildreth had gone to Russia, with the intention of travelling from place to place to form her own opinions upon the customs and people of that country. While on one of her expeditions one of the horses cast a shoe, and while waiting its replacement she was invited to rest at a villa some four miles outside of St. Petersburg. She did so, and was greatly impressed by the luxury and beauty displayed in the interior arrangements of the unpretending mansion. It was some little time before the lady of the house came to her; but, from the moment she entered the salon, Miss Hildreth was conscious of a sudden curious sympathy, that sprang to life in her heart, combined with a puzzling certainty of having in some past situation met and known the beautiful woman, who advanced towards her with a smile of welcome. This perplexing enigma was presently solved in the most commonplace way; Miss Hildreth and her hostess, rising together to examine some object of art, passed a long mirror, and one glance towards it was sufficient to explain the familiarity of the stranger's countenance and bearing; between the two ladies there existed a marked and positive likeness in feature, form, and colouring. So pronounced indeed was it that both commented upon it. The impromptu visit lasted some hours, and on parting Miss Hildreth carried with her the name and rank of her chance acquaintance. She was known to her narrow, outside world as AdÈle Lamien, but she was in reality secretly married to Count Stevan Lallovich, a near relative of the Tsar.

"Being often at Court and mingling in Court society, it was not long before Miss Hildreth came in contact with Stevan Lallovich, who was accounted the gayest, wealthiest, most fascinating, and most dissolute man of his circle. He chose to devote himself conspicuously to Miss Hildreth, and though posing as a bachelor, he more than once hinted at some special reason for his attentions. Miss Hildreth accounted for them as a tacit acknowledgment of the likeness that existed between herself and his wife. She more than once drove out to the villa across the Troitski Bridge, and each time returned more and more interested in its mistress.

"Early in December, all St. Petersburg was thrown into a state of consternation by the murder of Count Stevan Lallovich, who was found dead in his palace, stabbed through the heart. With one of those marvellous intuitions, granted only to women, Miss Hildreth, on first hearing the bald details, felt confident as to the hand that had dealt the fatal blow. She hurried alone and by night to the villa, and there found the poor wife, whom desertion had changed into a demon of revenge, and without a moment's reflection changed clothes with her, and by morning both were flying across country, making straight for the frontier, protected by Miss Hildreth's passport for herself and maid, and by her unstinted use of money. In Paris they separated, Miss Hildreth continuing her journey to England, and embarking on board the Suisse, of the International Line, as AdÈle Lamien, for the express purpose of turning the Russian police off the track. The real AdÈle Lamien, or Lallovich, remained under the protection of her mother's family, well-to-do people in the west of France."

So far, Mainwaring had gone on from point to point with rapid and uninterrupted utterance, carrying his audience with him, who, from sheer amazement, sat spell-bound and breathlessly attentive. He stopped now, and with another upward toss of his head threw back the offending lock of hair, turned a quick comprehensive look at his audience, and then fixed his eyes for a brief second upon Patricia.

She sat bending forward a little, her hands folded, her face raised, on either cheek a streak of vivid crimson staining their wax-like pallor; her eyes beneath the dark, straight brows met his with one responsive flash of their old quick fire.

With the very slightest smile of encouragement upon his lips, John Mainwaring drew a deep breath and took up the thread of his discourse.