You are
doing such things every day of your life; that's why everybody loves
you. As to what you want me to do, don't say any more to me"--the
tears he was hiding were choking him. "Let me go home. What you have
told me of my mother, of yourself--everything has knocked me out. My
judgment has gone--I must think it all over. I know every word you
have said about the loan is true; but I haven't told you all. The
situation is worse than you think. Everything depends on
it--Madeleine--her father--all of us. If I could have found some other
plan--if you had only talked to me this way before. But I've promised
them all--they expect it. No! Don't speak to me. Don't say another
word. Let me go home." And he flung himself from the room.

Adam sat still. The confession had wrung his soul; the pain seemed
unbearable. What the outcome would be God only knew. With a quick
movement, as if seeking relief, he rose to his feet and walked to the
portrait. Then lifting his hands above his head with the movement of a
despairing suppliant before the Madonna he cried out:

"Help him, my beloved. Help him as you did me."

IX

At the offices of Philip Colton & Co., just off Wall Street, an
unusual stir was apparent--an air of expectancy seemed to pervade
everything. The cashier had arrived at his desk half an hour earlier
than usual, and so had the stock clerk and the two book-keepers. This
had been in accordance with Mr. Colton's instructions the night
before, and they had been carried out to the minute. The papers in the
big copper loan, he had told the stock clerk, were to be signed at
half-past eleven o'clock the next morning, and he wanted all the
business of the preceding day cleaned up and out of the way before the
new deal went through. This accomplished, he said to himself, Mr.
Eggleston would be able to retire a part if not all of his special
capital, and his dear Madeleine, to quote a morning journal, find a
place by the side of "one of the bright young financiers of our time."

Mr. Eggleston, in tan-colored waistcoat, white gaiters and shiny silk
hat, a gold-headed cane in one hand--the embodiment of a prosperous
man of affairs--also arrived half an hour earlier--ten o'clock,
really, an event that caused some astonishment, for not twice in the
whole year had the special partner reached his son's office so early
in the day.

Young Eggleston reached his desk a few minutes after his father. His
dress was as costly as