u to this?"

"What I say is, that I am not here to be questioned as to the
whereabouts of every real or imaginary name you can think of."

"Restive again, Stocmar? What, are you so bent on your own ruin that you
will exhaust the patience of one who never could boast too much of
that quality? I tell you that if I leave this room without a full
and explicit answer to my demand,--and in writing, too, in your own
hand,--you'll not see me again except as your prosecutor in a court of
justice. And now, for the last time, where is this woman?"

"She was in Italy; at Rome all the winter," said Stocmar, doggedly.

"I know that. And now?"

"In Germany, I believe."

"That is, you _know_, and the place too. Write it there."

"Before I do so, you 'll give me, under your own hand, a formal release
from this trumpery charge, whose worst consequence would be my appearing
in public to answer it."

"Nothing of the kind; not a line to that effect I 'll keep it over you
till the whole of the business we are engaged in be completed. Ay, sir,
you shall not be exposed to the evil temptation to turn upon me. We have
affairs to settle which will require our meeting with this woman, and as
we live in an age of telegraphs, you shall not be able to warn her that
we are coming; for if you do, I swear to you more solemnly than you
swore awhile back to me, that I 'll bring such disgrace upon your head
that you 'll walk the streets of this city as wretched an object as _I_
was when I slept in that dog-hole behind the fire-engine."

"You 'll do nothing with me by your threats, old man."

"Everything, all I ask, by what my threats can accomplish. Remember,
besides, all that we require of you will only serve to shorten a road
that we are determined to go. You can only help us so far. The rest lies
with ourselves."

"Her address is Gebhardts-Berg, Bregenz," said Stocmar, in a low
muttering voice.

"Write it, sir; write it there," said the doctor, pointing to a sheet of
paper on the table.

"There, is that enough?" said Stocmar, as he wrote the words, and flung
down the pen.

"No, there is yet the other. Where is Clara Hawke?"

"As to her, I may as well tell you she is bound to me by an indenture;
I have been at the charge of her instruction, and can only be repaid by
her successes hereafter--"

"More of the slave market!" broke in the doctor. "But to the question.
Who sold her to you? She had neither father nor mother. With whom did
y