rke's garden pavilion, while Dumeny
played to her as the moon came up to shine upon the sweet waters of
Asia; or sitting under the plane trees of the Pigeon Mosque, while Hadi
Bey showed her how to write an Arabic love-letter--to somebody in the
air, of course. In this trial he felt the fascination of Constantinople
as he had never felt it when he was in Constantinople; but he felt, too,
that only those who strayed deliberately from the beaten paths could
ever capture the full fascination of the divided city, which looks to
Europe and to Asia, and is set along the way of the sea.

Whether innocent or guilty, Mrs. Clarke had certainly done that. He
watched her with a growing interest. How very much she must know that he
did not know. Then he glanced at Hadi Bey, who still sat up alertly, who
still looked bright and vivid, intelligent, ready for anything, a man
surely with muscles of steel and a courageous robust nature, and at
Aristide Dumeny. Upon the latter his eyes rested for a long time.
When at last he again looked at Mrs. Clarke he had formed the definite
impression that Dumeny was corrupt--an interesting man, a clever,
probably a romantic as well as a cynical man, but certainly corrupt.

Didn't that tell against Mrs. Clarke?

She was now being questioned about a trip at night in a caique with Hadi
Bey down the sweet waters of Asia where willows lean over the stream.
Mrs. Chetwinde's pale eyes were fastened upon her. Beadon Clarke bent
his head a little lower as, in her husky voice, his wife said that
he knew of the expedition, had apparently smiled upon her
unconventionalities, knowing how entirely free she was from the ugly
bias towards vice attributed to her by Counsel.

Lady Ermyntrude Clarke shot a glance at her son, and her firm mouth
became firmer.

The willows bent over the sweet waters in the warm summer night; the
Albanian boatmen were singing.

"She must have had wonderful times!"

The whisper came from an unseen woman sitting just behind Dion. His mind
echoed the thought she had expressed. Now the Judge was rising from the
bench and bowing to the Court; Mrs. Clarke was stepping down from the
witness-box; Dumeny, his eyes half closed, was brushing his shining silk
hat with the sleeve of his coat; Beadon Clarke was leaning to speak to
his mother.

The Court was adjourned.

As Dion got up he felt the heat as if it were heat from a furnace. His
face and his body were burning.

"Come and speak t