r after him. He handed me an envelope, accompanying it
with a look of suppressed eagerness which suggested certain details
pertinent to the missive which were being reserved--with
difficulty--for my private hearing.

"Note for Maillot," announced he, his eyes fixed curiously upon the
young man.

Maillot, apparently dumfounded, rose slowly to his feet.

"A note--for me!" he faltered. Then, quietly: "Give it to me, Swift."

Our glances met--and stayed. I had the envelope before me pinned to
the table with the outspread fingers of my right hand. Maillot was
unmistakably in great distress of mind, and his expression was that of
a man desperate but determined. Only for a moment I hesitated; then
without raising my hand, I slid the envelope across the table to him.

"It's a question of confidence, Mr. Maillot," said I, calmly,
endeavoring to convey my earnestness in the look which had not for an
instant swayed from his. "I reserve the right, should the occasion
arise, to read it; understand?"

With a curt nod of acquiescence, he snatched it up from the table. A
glimpse of the handwriting brought a flush to his face and a glad
sparkle to his eyes; but the missive troubled him. It was short, and
as he slowly returned it to its envelope his hand shook and his
countenance grew more and more harassed and perplexed.

I glanced at Burke's pallid features and found them as impassive as any
Indian's. It was impossible to determine whether he was watching me or
Maillot.

Evidently assuming the incident to be closed, Stodger saw his
opportunity to speak again.

"Chap's out here that brought it," said he; "coachman, he looks like;
waiting for an answer." Then he turned to me, continuing:

"Four reporters out there, too; what shall I do with 'em?"

Maillot suddenly startled us by smiting the table violently with his
fist. He was white, trembling, and apprehensive; but his determination
was by no means broken.

"Swift," said he, in a hushed, strained voice, "step aside with me; let
me have a word with you."

He seized my arm, and fairly dragged me off toward the curtained alcove.

"Swift," he whispered, not releasing his grip on my arm, "I 'm in a
devil of a position. For God's sake, show some sign of humanity! That
note was from a young lady--"

"I surmised as much."

"Damn it, man! Don't laugh! I'm more dead in earnest than I ever was
before in my life. This means more to me--to her--than you can by an