She gave back flashes of brightness, but I saw on her face the shadow of her mother's melancholy, and I rose at an early hour to take my leave. “I wonder at you,” said Luella softly, as we stood alone for a moment. “You have little cause.” “What you have done is much. You have conquered difficulties.” I looked in her calm eyes, and my soul came to the surface. “I wish you might be proud of me,” I said. “I--I am proud of such a friend--except--” She hesitated. “Always an 'except,'” I said half-bitterly. “But you have promised to tell me--” “Some day. As soon as I may.” Under her magnetic influence, I should have told her then had she urged me. And not until I was once more outside the house did I recall how impossible it was that I could ever tell her. “What shall I do? What shall I do?” was the refrain that ran through my brain insistently, as the battle between love and duty rose and swelled. And I was sorely tempted to tell the Unknown to look elsewhere for assistance, and to bury the memory of my dead friend and the feud with Doddridge Knapp in a common grave. “Here's some one to see you, sir,” said Owens, as I reached the walk, and joined the guards I had left to wait for me. The rain had ceased, but the wind, which had fallen during the day, was freshening once more from the south. “Yes, sor, you're wanted at Mother Borton's in a hurry,” said another voice, and a man stepped forward. “There's the divil to pay!” I recognized the one-eyed man who had done me the service that enabled me to escape from Livermore. “Ah, Broderick, what's the matter?” “I didn't get no orders, sor, so I don't know, but there was the divil's own shindy in the height of progression when I left. And Mother Borton says I was to come hot-foot for you, and tell you to come with your men if ye valued your sowl.” “Is she in danger?” “I reckon the thought was heavy on her mind, for her face was white with the terror of it.” We hastened forward, but at the next corner a passing hack stood ready for passengers, and we rolled down the street, the horses' hoofs outstripped by my anxiety and apprehensions. One of the men was sent to bring out such of my force as had returned, and I, with the two others, hurried on to Borton's. There was none of the sounds of riot I had expected to hear as we drew up before it. The lantern blinked outside with its invitation to manifold cheer within. Lights streamed through the window and the half-opened door, and quiet and order reigned. As I stepped to the walk, I found the explanation of the change in the person of a policeman, who stood at the door. “Holy St. Peter! the cops is on!” whispered Broderick. I failed to share his trepidation in the presence of the representative of law and order, and stepped up to the policeman. “Has there been trouble here, officer?” I asked.