you should interfere. Galen Albret, send her
away."

The Factor had turned squarely in his heavy arm-chair to regard the
girl, a frown on his brows.

"Virginia," he commanded, in deliberate, stern tones of authority,
"leave the room. You have nothing to do with this case, and I do not
desire your interference."

Virginia stepped bravely beyond the portals, and stopped. Her fingers
were nervously interlocked, her lip trembled, in her cheeks the color
came and went, but her eyes met her father's, unfaltering.

"I have more to do with it than you think," she replied.

Instantly Ned Trent was at the table. "I really think this has gone
far enough," he interposed. "We have had our interview, and come to a
decision. Miss Albret must not be permitted to exaggerate a slight
sentiment of pity into an interest in my affairs. If she knew that
such a demonstration only made it worse for me I am sure she would say
no more." He looked at her appealingly across the Factor's shoulder.

Me-en-gan was already holding open the door. "You come," he smiled,
beseechingly.

But the Factor's suspicions were aroused.

[Illustration: "I HAVE MORE TO DO WITH IT THAN YOU THINK!" Scene from
the play.]

"There is something in this," he decided. "I think you may stay,
Virginia."

"You are right," broke in the young man, desperately. "There is
something in it. Miss Albret knows who gave me the rifle, and she was
about to inform you of his identity. There is no need in subjecting
her to that distasteful ordeal. I am now ready to confess to you. I
beg you will ask her to leave the room."

Galen Albret, in the midst of these warring intentions, had sunk into
his customary impassive calm. The light had died from his eyes, the
expression from his face, the energy from his body. He sat, an inert
mass, void of initiative, his intelligence open to what might be
brought to his notice.

"Virginia, this is true?" his heavy, dead voice rumbled through his
beard. "You know who aided this man?"

Ned Trent mutely appealed to her; her glance answered his.

"Yes, father," she replied.

"Who?"

"I did."

A dead silence fell on the room. Galen Albret's expression and
attitude did not change. Through dull, lifeless eyes, from behind the
heavy mask of his waxen face and white beard, he looked steadily out
upon nothing. Along either arm of the chair stretched his own arms
limp and heavy with inertia. In suspense the other three inmates of
the place