eans of a successful fraud of his own, when in
justice he should be in a State's prison. I will have no more of this.
Understand, once for all, that there is an impassable gulf between your
life and mine. I do not doubt that you will make yourself President, but
whatever or wherever you are, never speak to me or recognize me again!"

He glared a moment into her face with a sort of blind rage, and seemed
about to say more, when she swept past him, and before he realized it,
he was alone.

Overmastered by passion, but conscious that he was powerless, Ratcliffe,
after a moment's hesitation, left the room and the house. He let himself
out, shutting the front door behind him, and as he stood on the pavement
old Baron Jacobi, who had special reasons for wishing to know how Mrs.
Lee had recovered from the fatigue and excitements of the ball, came up
to the spot.

A single glance at Ratcliffe showed him that something had gone wrong in
the career of that great man, whose fortunes he always followed with so
bitter a sneer of contempt. Impelled by the spirit of evil always at his
elbow, the Baron seized this moment to sound the depth of his friend's
wound. They met at the door so closely that recognition was inevitable,
and Jacobi, with his worst smile, held out his hand, saying at the same
moment with diabolic malignity:

"I hope I may offer my felicitations to your Excellency!"

Ratcliffe was glad to find some victim on whom he could vent his rage.
He had a long score of humiliations to repay this man, whose last insult
was beyond all endurance. With an oath he dashed Jacobi's hand aside,
and, grasping his shoulder, thrust him out of the path. The Baron, among
whose weaknesses the want of high temper and personal courage was not
recorded, had no mind to tolerate such an insult from such a man. Even
while Ratcliffe's hand was still on his shoulder he had raised his cane,
and before the Secretary saw what was coming, the old man had struck him
with all his force full in the face. For a moment Ratcliffe staggered
back and grew pale, but the shock sobered him. He hesitated a single
instant whether to crush his assailant with a blow, but he felt that
for one of his youth and strength, to attack an infirm diplomatist in
a public street would be a fatal blunder, and while Jacobi stood,
violently excited, with his cane raised ready to strike another blow,
Mr. Ratcliffe suddenly turned his back and without a word, hastened
away.