me. I was at once
aware that it was not yours, for I had some paid bills, signed by you,
at hand, with which I compared it. Of course, my only remedy was to seek
you out, although I was nearly certain, before your present denial, that
the bill was a forgery."

He spoke quite tranquilly still, with a perfectly respectful regret,
but with the air of a man who has his title to be heard, and is acting
simply in hie own clear right. The Seraph listened, restless, impatient,
sorely tried to keep in the passion which had been awakened by the hint
that this wretched matter could concern or attaint the honor of his
corps.

"Well! speak out!" he said impatiently. "Details are nothing. Who drew
it? Who forged my name, if it be forged? Quick! give me the paper."

"With every trust and every deference, my lord, I cannot let the bill
pass out of my own hands until this unfortunate matter be cleared up--if
cleared up it can be. Your lordship shall see the bill, however, of
course, spread here upon the table; but first, let me warn you, my Lord
Marquis, that the sight will be intensely painful to you.

"Very painful, my lord," added Baroni impressively. "Prepare yourself
for--"

Rock dashed his hand down on the marble table with a force that made the
lusters and statuettes on it ring and tremble.

"No more words! Lay the bill there."

Baroni bowed and smoothed out upon the console the crumpled document,
holding it with one hand, yet leaving visible with the counterfeited
signature one other, the name of the forger in whose favor the bill was
drawn; that other signature was--"Bertie Cecil."

"I deeply regret to deal you such a blow from such a friend, my lord,"
said the Jew softly. The Seraph stooped and gazed--one instant of
horrified amazement kept him dumb there, staring at the written paper as
at some ghastly thing; then all the hot blood rushed over his fair,
bold face; he flung himself on the Hebrew, and, ere the other could have
breath or warning, tossed him upward to the painted ceiling and hurled
him down again upon the velvet carpet, as lightly as a retriever will
catch up and let fall a wild duck or a grouse, and stood over Baroni
where he lay.

"You hound!"

Baroni, lying passive and breathless with the violence of the shock and
the surprise, yet kept, even amid the hurricane of wrath that had tossed
him upward and downward as the winds toss leaves, his hold upon the
document, and his clear, cool, ready self-pos