. has had his
mind on you as well!"

Joyce's eyes dilated and the colour rose through her soft paleness, but
she did not speak.

"It's always the way. Them most concerned gits wind of scandal last.
Even the brats have caught on before me. But once your father has both
eyes open, folks better watch out."

"Who do you mean by Myst.?" asked Joyce, and her strained voice sounded
unnatural.

"Gaston, to be sure! I've got a wit of my own, Joyce. Myst.--short for
Mystery. That's what Gaston is. No one knows a damned thing about him."

"Well, that's to his credit, anyway." Joyce flung up a defence now. She
must fight, but she must keep herself out of sight.

Jared glared angrily. He did not like the tone.

"Oh! I ain't the one to object to you keeping your mouth shut," he
returned. "Jammed logs"--the phrase stuck in his mind--"jammed logs
don't creak any; but when it comes to joining forces, like two jams
together for instance, there's got to be, in the nature of things, some
demonstration. What I'm aiming at is this. Has this here Myst. meant
business or has he not? I'm a man of the world--so is Gaston--he ain't
never hoodwinked me. I had my reasons for coming here, and likewise, so
has he. That's my business and his, by thunder! but when _he_ meddles in
my affairs he's got to show his hand. Now is it, or ain't it, business
'twixt you and him?"

"What kind of business?" Joyce's voice was low and even. She was
approaching her father cautiously and fearfully.

"Honourable--or otherwise?"

A silence followed. Something was born, and something died in the
sunlighted room while that silence lasted.

The child's dependence upon its father fell, torn and quivering, before
the new-risen self-protection of the pitiful girlhood.

For the first time, consciously, Joyce experienced the soul-loneliness
for which there is no aid. Her deep eyes pleaded for help and mercy
where there was no help, and alas! no mercy. Birkdale had his answer
now, though no word had been uttered by those quivering lips.

"You can't be expected to act for yourself in these matters." Jared put
his pipe on the table and brought his chair to the floor. "You ain't the
first girl as has been game for such as Myst., but he's made a damned
mistake if he thought two couldn't play at his game here in St. Ange.
We'll make something out of him no matter which way you put it."

"Make something--out--of--what?" Joyce bent forward and real horror
filled her e