he Insanity of Educating
the Masses," and, with these in one hand and his staff in the other, set
out for Frowenfeld's, not merely smarting but trembling under the
humiliation of having been sent, for the first time in his life, to the
rear as a non-combatant.

He found the apothecary among his clerks, preparing with his own hands
the "chalybeate tonic" for which the f.m.c. was expected to call. Raoul
Innerarity stood at his elbow, looking on with an amiable air of having
been superseded for the moment by his master.

"Ha-ah! Professor Frowenfeld!"

The old man nourished his scroll.

Frowenfeld said good-morning, and they shook hands across the counter;
but the old man's grasp was so tremulous that the apothecary looked at
him again.

"Does my hand tremble, Joseph? It is not strange; I have had much to
excite me this morning."

"Wat's de mattah?" demanded Raoul, quickly.

"My life--which I admit, Professor Frowenfeld, is of little value
compared with such a one as yours--has been--if not attempted, at least
threatened."

"How?" cried Raoul.

"H-really, Professor, we must agree that a trifle like that ought not to
make old Agricola Fusilier nervous. But I find it painful, sir, very
painful. I can lift up this right hand, Joseph, and swear I never gave a
slave--man or woman--a blow in my life but according to my notion of
justice. And now to find my life attempted by former slaves of my own
household, and taunted with the righteous hamstringing of a dangerous
runaway! But they have apprehended the miscreants; one is actually in
hand, and justice will take its course; trust the Grandissimes for
that--though, really, Joseph, I assure you, I counselled leniency."

"Do you say they have caught her?" Frowenfeld's question was sudden and
excited; but the next moment he had controlled himself.

"H-h-my son, I did not say it was a 'her'!"

"Was it not Clemence? Have they caught her?"

"H-yes--"

The apothecary turned to Raoul.

"Go tell Honore Grandissime."

"But, Professor Frowenfeld--" began Agricola.

Frowenfeld turned to repeat his instruction, but Raoul was already
leaving the store.

Agricola straightened up angrily.

"Pro-hofessor Frowenfeld, by what right do you interfere?"

"No matter," said the apothecary, turning half-way and pouring the
tonic into a vial.

"Sir," thundered the old lion, "h-I demand of you to answer! How dare
you insinuate that my kinsmen may deal otherwise than justly?"