"What did he say?" he asked, nervously looking away. Something in his hangdog look warned Miss Beekman that she was being betrayed, but before she could answer Mr. Tutt was on his feet. "One moment!" he cried. "May I ask a preliminary question?" The court signified acquiescence. "Was that conversation which you had with the defendant a confidential one?" "I object to the question!" snapped O'Brien. "The law recognizes no confidential communications as privileged except those made to a priest, a physician or an attorney. The witness is none of these. The question is immaterial and irrelevant." "That is the law," announced the judge, "but under all the circumstances I will permit the witness to answer." Miss Beekman paused. "Why," she began, "of course it was confidential, Mr. Tutt. O'Connell wouldn't have told me anything if he had supposed for one moment I was going to repeat what he said. Besides, I suggested that I might be able to help him. Yes, certainly our talk was confidential." "I am sorry," gloated O'Brien, "but I shall have to ask you what it was." "That is not a question," said Mr. Tutt calmly. "What did the defendant say to you in the counsel room of the Tombs on the twenty-third of last month?" cautiously revised O'Brien. "I object!" thundered Mr. Tutt, his form towering until seemingly it matched that of the blind goddess in height. "I object to the answer as requiring a breach of confidence which the law could not tolerate." Judge Babson turned politely to Miss Beekman. "I regret very much that I shall be obliged to ask you to state what the defendant said to you. You will recall that you yourself volunteered the information that you had had the talk in question. Otherwise"--he coughed and put up his hand--"we might possibly never have learned of it. A defendant cannot deprive the people of the right to prove what he may have divulged respecting his offense merely by claiming that it was in confidence. Public policy could never allow that. It may be unpleasant for you to answer the question but I must ask you to do so." "But," she protested, "you certainly cannot expect me to betray a confidence! I asked O'Connell to tell me what he had done so that I could help him--and he trusted me!" "But you are not responsible for the law! He took his chance!" admonished the judge. Slowly Miss Althea's indignation rose as she perceived the dastardly trick which O'Brien had played upon her. Already she suspected that the judge was only masquerading in the clothing of a gentleman. With a white face she turned to Mr. Tutt. "Does the law require me to answer, Mr. Tutt?" she inquired. "Do not ask questions--answer them," ordered Babson brusquely, feeling the change in her manner. "You are a witness for the people--not the defendant." "I am not a witness against O'Connell!" she declared. "This man"--indicating O'Brien scornfully--"has in some way found out that I--Oh, surely the law doesn't demand anything so base as that!"