ling a watch and ring from the room of Count Jules St. Croix."

"Absurd!" was the reply, in accents of the deepest contempt; "what
idiotic nonsense! He steal a watch! I could believe myself mad or
dreaming."

"Then," said Mr. Macfarlane. "he has pleaded guilty; he has made no
defence, engaged no counsel."

"The boy is mad! completely mad!" cried the lawyer.

"Hush!" said the barrister; "the judge is speaking."

Mr. Forster stood in a most impatient mood, while the grave, clear voice
of the judge sentenced the prisoner. Then he turned to the barrister
abruptly.

"I tell you," he cried, "the boy is mad! Steal a watch! Why, he could
buy one-half the watches in London if he liked. I must see him. Come
this way."

"No," said Mr. Macfarlane, "he evidently does not wish to be known. I
shall not go near him."

"If he got into trouble, why in the world did he not send for me or for
some one else?" said the lawyer to himself. "It must be a young man's
frolic, a wager, a bet. He has spirit enough for anything. He never
could have been such a mad fool as to wreck his life for a paltry
watch."

Mr. Forster went to the room, where with other prisoners, John Smith
stood, awaiting his removal in the prison van. He went up to him and
touched him on the shoulder.

"Is it really you?" he cried, and the luminous gray eyes smiled into
his.

"Ah! Forster, I am sorry to see you. What has brought you here?"

"It is you," said the lawyer. "I was in hopes that my senses deceived
me."

"I hope you will keep the fact of having seen me here a profound
secret."

"But in the name of heaven, what does it mean?" cried Mr. Forster. "You
know you have not attempted to steal a watch. Pardon me, but how dare
you plead guilty? You will cover yourself with disgrace and infamy. You
will break your mother's heart. You will be utterly ruined for life."

"My dear Forster, no one knows of my being here, and no one need know
except yourself."

"You are mistaken; you have been recognized. I was sent for to identify
you."

Then the proud face did grow pale, but the proud light did not die out
of the gray eyes.

"I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. I must 'dree my weird.'"

Mr. Forster stood looking at him like one stupefied.

"If the sun had fallen from the heavens," he said, "it would not have
surprised me more. Surely, surely you are going to trust me and tell me
what this means?"

"I cannot. Go on with everything just the same.