"It means that probably some guilty bank officials will go 'unwhipped of justice.' Duncan's father had no relatives in America. He was a poor stowaway lad from England, and since the grandmother's death his son, Duncan, had only his mother's sister, Mrs. Martin. I could not hear from Duncan, to whom I wrote twice last week, and this telegram is an answer to one I sent Martin, telling him I could make only a very brief stop at Woodbury to-night. I have done my duty. I have kept my word. The prosecution of the guilty does not devolve on me, and Martin will never consent to undertake a suit for libel. It would involve money which he does not possess, and responsibility he will not dare to assume. Your father's letters, and the vouchers for large sums of money sent to 'Ely Twiggs,' are in a separate envelope. I shall burn them now, before I deliver the box to Martin." She sprang forward, her hands on his shoulders, her lips quivering like rose-leaves in a gale. "Do you mean it? Will you save my father?" He took her wrists and held her away from him. "Death saves him; certainly not I." "No more sorrow can ever come to him?" "Not from this box; and none through me." The revulsion overwhelmed her. She sank back, and when he caught her and put his ear to her mouth he could not hear her breathe. He lifted and laid her upon a sofa, and stood looking down at her. So pure and white, so helpless, so beautiful! Legally his wife, but never to be his. Dipping a towel in water he bathed her face, sprinkled it. The icy hands he chafed in his broad, warm palms, and as his fingers touched the wedding ring he ground his teeth. When her breathing grew stronger, he rose, relinquished her hands, and after a moment she opened her eyes. "I thought you college-bred girls too well trained to faint." She sat up, half dazed, and the water dripped from her hair. "I never fainted before; something smothered me, and everything turned black. Mr. Herriott!" He had gone to the table, but turned, and looked at her over his shoulder. "Mr. Herriott, did not you say father was safe from shame and sorrow?" "In a few moments he will be." He opened the tin box, selected a small bundle of papers in an envelope marked "Ely Twiggs," and drew some matches from his case. In the grate he burned them one by one, then relocked and tied up the box. "Eglah, what a pity Iphigenia did not know favorable winds were already blowing at Aulis before she yielded herself to her father's sacrificing hands! Poor Duncan had been dead twenty-four hours when the bishop performed that nuptial farce. If Martin's telegram had been forwarded, you would now be happy at home. I find it necessary to change my plans somewhat. I can spend but a single day at home, and, instead of going directly thence to Boston, shall make a few hours' stay in New York to see my lawyers."