hile the whole miserable story of the divorce, in its American aspects,
unrolled. At first Roger showed a certain apathy and brevity; he might
have been fulfilling a task in which he took but small interest; even
the details of chicanery and corruption connected with the trial were
told without heat; he said nothing bitter of his wife--avoided naming
her, indeed, as much as possible.

But when the tale was done he threw back his head with sudden animation
and looked at Boyson.

"Is that about the truth, Boyson? You know."

"Yes, I endorse it," said the American gravely. His face, thin and
tanned, had flushed while Barnes was speaking.

"And you know what all their papers said of me--what _they_ wished
people to believe--that I wasn't fit to have charge of Beatty--that I
should have done her harm?"

His eyes sparkled. He looked almost threateningly at the man whom he
addressed. Boyson met his gaze quietly.

"I didn't believe it."

There was a pause. Then Roger sprang suddenly to his feet, confronting
the men round him.

"Look here!" he said impatiently. "I want some money at once--and a good
lot of it." He brought his fist down heavily on the mantelpiece.
"There's this place of my uncle's, and I'm dashed if I can get a penny
out of it! I went to his solicitors this morning. They drove me mad with
their red-tape nonsense. It will take some time, they say, to get a
mortgage on it, and meanwhile they don't seem inclined to advance me
anything, or a hundred or two, perhaps. What's that? I lost my temper,
and next time I go they'll turn me out, I dare say. But there's the
truth. It's _money_ I want, and if you can't help me to money it's no
use talking."

"And when you get the money what'll you do with it?" asked Penrose.

"Pay half a dozen people who can be trusted to help me kidnap Beatty and
smuggle her over the Canadian frontier. I bungled the thing once. I
don't mean to bungle it again."

The answer was given slowly, without any bravado, but whatever energy of
life there was in the speaker had gone into it.

"And there is no other way?" French's voice from the back was troubled.

"Ask him?" Roger pointed to Boyson.

"Is there any legal way, Boyson, in which I can recover the custody and
companionship of my child?"

Boyson turned away.

"None that I know of--and I have made every possible inquiry."

"And yet," said Barnes, with emphasis, addressing the English barrister,
"by the law of England I am s