“I must ask you,” the young man pursued, “to be good enough either to disprove or to confirm my estimate of my indebtedness to you. How much should you consider that you owed if you had stolen anybody’s money and made a lot more with it? Only the sum stolen or the whole amount? There’s my point.” “But I did! I have!” cried the Professor. “Did what?” “Exactly what you have done. Stole—that is, gambled with a sum of money entrusted to me for the purpose, and won the large amount you have correctly stated. It is true,” the Professor continued, “that I had no intention of appropriating a penny of it; but, believing that my culpable negligence had caused the whole sum to be destroyed by fire, I considered myself—” “Well?” panted Taber Tring. “As indebted for the entire amount to this lady here—” Taber Tring’s face became illuminated with sudden comprehension. “Holy Moses! You don’t mean to say all that money under the door belonged to Betsy?” “Every cent of it, in my opinion,” said the Professor firmly; and the two men stood and stared at each other. “But, good gracious,” the Princess intervened, “then nobody has stolen anything!” The load which had crushed the Professor to earth rolled from his shoulders, and he lifted the head of a free man. “So it would seem.” But Taber Tring could only ejaculate once again: “Holy Moses!” “Then we are rich once more—is it not so, my Taber?” The Princess leaned a thoughtful head upon her hand. “Do you know, I could almost regret it? Yes, I regret, dear friends, that you are both blameless, and that no sacrifice will be demanded of me. It would have been so beautiful if you had both sinned, and I had also had to sin to save you. But, on the other hand,” she reflected, with lifted eyes and a smile like heaven, “I shall now be able to have my play brought out at my own expense. And for that,” she cried, again possessing herself of Professor Hibbart’s hands, “for that too I have to thank you! And this is the only way I know of doing it.” She flung her arms around his neck and lifted her lips to his; and the exonerated and emancipated Professor took what she offered like a man. “And now,” she cried, “for my other hero!” and caught her betrothed to her heart. These effusions were interrupted by the entrance of the resplendent footman, who surveyed them without surprise or disapproval. “There is at the door,” he announced, “a young lady of the name of Betsy who is asking for Monsieur.” He indicated the Professor. “She would give no other name; she said that was enough. She knows Monsieur has been seeking her everywhere in Cannes, and she is in despair at having missed him; but at the time she was engaged with another client.” The Professor turned pale, and Taber Tring’s left lid sketched a tentative wink.