th Madame Caron.

Pierson had a brief interview with her, rendered the more brief that
he was conscious of Masterson's orderly lounging outside the window,
but plainly within hearing, and the presence of Mrs. McVeigh, who was
all interest and sympathy concerning Louise.

When he said: "Don't be at all disturbed over the work to be done,
Madame; there is plenty of time in which to complete everything," the
others present supposed, of course, he referred to the repairs on the
yacht; and when he said, in reply to her admonitions, "No fear of me
losing the road again, I shall arrive tonight," they supposed, of
course, he referred to his arrival at the coast. Judithe knew better;
she knew it meant his return, and more hours of uncertainty for her.

Colonel McVeigh helped to keep those hours from dragging by following
up his love-making with a proposal of marriage, which she neither
accepted or declined, but which gave her additional food for thought.

All the day Pluto brooded over that scene in the library. He was
oppressed by the dread of harm to Madame Caron if some one did not at
once acquaint her with the fact that the real spy was Madame's maid,
who had fled for fear of recognition by the Lorings. He had been
curious as to what motive had been strong enough to bring her back to
the locality so dangerous to her freedom. He was puzzled no longer--he
knew.

But, how to tell Madame Caron? How could a nigger tell a white lady
that story of Rhoda and Rhoda's mother? And if part was told, all must
be told. He thought of telling Dr. Delaven, who already knew the
history of Margeret, but Dr. Delaven was a friend to the Lorings, and
how was a nigger to know what a white man's honor would exact that he
do in such a case? And Pluto was afraid to ask it.

Instinctively his trust turned to the blue uniformed "Linkum soldier."
No danger of him telling the story of the runaway slave to the wrong
person. And he was Madame Caron's friend. Pluto had noted how he
stepped beside her when Masterson brought his accusation against her,
or her agent, Pierson. Monroe had been a sort of divinity to him from
the moment the officer in blue had walked up the steps of the Terrace,
and Pluto's admiration culminated in the decision that he was the one
man to warn Madame Caron of her maid's identity without betraying it
to any other.

The lady who caused all this suppressed anxiety was, apparently,
care-free herself, or only disturbed slightly