"Oh, you do!" Mr. Follingsbee is not quite mollified. "Then you don't see that Leslie was sorely in need of a friend in whom she could confide--just such a friend as she might have found in you, had you been, or tried to be, a brother to her, instead of a suspicious, egotistical enemy. She could not take her troubles to Archibald, but she might have trusted you--she would have trusted you, had your conduct been what it should." "I had not thought of that." Alan becomes more humble as his accuser continues to ply the lash. "What you say may be true. Be sure, sir, if we ever find Daisy and Leslie, I shall try to make amends." "Umph! Then you had better begin now, by taking good advice when it is offered." "What do you advise, then?" "I? nothing, except at second hand. It is this champion of yours who advises." "Then what is his advice?" "He says that you must quit the country at once." "Impossible!" "Nothing of the sort. The _Clytie_ sails for Liverpool to-morrow. You and Leslie have taken passage--" "Taken passage! Leslie!" "Just so; everything has been arranged by--" He pauses, then says: "The 'Organ-grinder.'" "I repeat, it is impossible. Do you think I will leave the country while little Daisy's fate remains--" "Oh, stop! _stop!_ STOP! Man, are you determined to be an idiot? Will you hold your tongue and listen?" "I will listen, yes; but--" "But--bosh! Listen, then, and don't interrupt." He lowers his voice, not from fear of an eavesdropper but because, having gained this point, his impatience begins to subside. And Alan listens, while for more than an hour the little lawyer talks and gesticulates, smiles and frowns. He listens intently, with growing interest, until at last Mr. Follingsbee leans back in his chair, seeming to relax every muscle in so doing, and says: "Well, what do you think of it?" Then Alan Warburton rises and extends his hand impulsively. "I thank you with all my heart, sir, and I will be guided by you, and by our unknown friend. From this moment, I am at your disposal." "Umph!" grunts the lawyer, as he grasps the proffered hand, "I thought your senses would come back." CHAPTER XLV. A TRIP TO EUROPE. While Alan Warburton, closeted with Mr. Follingsbee, was slowly lowering the crest of the Warburton pride, and reluctantly submitting himself to the mysterious guidance of an unseen hand,--Winnie French, sitting beside her mother, was perusing Leslie's note.