gentle manner, her humility, her unquestioning
faith in himself. No one had ever had faith in him before. To Barbe he
was a booby when he was not a baby. To Letty he was a hero, strong,
wise, commanding. It wasn't merely his vanity that she touched; it was
his manliness. Barbe suppressed his manliness, because she herself was
so imperious. Letty depended on it, and therefore drew it out. Because
she believed him a man, he could be a man; whereas with Barbe, as with
everyone else, he was a creature to be liked, humored, laughed at, and
good-naturedly despised. He was sick of being liked, humored, and
laughed at; he rebelled with every atom in him that was masculine at
being good-naturedly despised. To find anyone who thought him big and
vigorous was to his starved spirit, as the psalmist says, sweeter also
than honey and the honeycomb. In having her weakness to hold up he
could for the first time in his life feel himself of use.

If there was no Barbe in the world he could have taken Letty as the
mate his soul was longing for. Yet how could he deal such a blow at
Barbe's loyalty? She had protected him during all his life, from
boyhood upwards. Between him and derision she had stood like a young
lioness. How could he deny her now?--no matter what frail, gentle
hands were clinging around his heart?

"How can I? How can I? How can I?"

He was torturing himself with this question when the telephone rang,
and he knew that Letty had not been found.

"No; nothing," were the words of Mr. Nailes. "No one of the name has
been reported at any of the hospitals, or police stations, or any
other public institution. They've applied at all the motion-picture
studios round New York; but still with no result. This, of course, is
only the preliminary search, as much as they've been able to
accomplish in one afternoon and evening. You mustn't be disappointed.
To-morrow is likely to be more successful."

Rash was, therefore, thrown back on another phase of his situation.
Letty was lost. She was not only lost, but she had run away from him.
She had not only run away from him, but she had done it so that he
might be rid of her. She had not only done it so that he might be rid
of her, but....

His spirit balked. His imagination could work no further. Horror
staggered him. A mother who knows that her child is in the hands of
kidnappers who will have no mercy might feel something like the
despair and helplessness which sent him chafing and