"I suppose I have no right to interfere," he said; "but there are times when a man forgets or puts aside etiquette, and there are reasons here why I should speak. Miss Vine, where is your father?" Louise made an effort to reply, but there was only a spasmodic catching of her breath. "Send him away. Tell him to go," whispered Harry. "I said, where is your father, Miss Vine?" said Leslie again more coldly. "At--at Mr Van Heldre's," she murmured at last. "Mr Leslie--pray--" "I am your father's friend, and I should not be doing my duty--ah! my duty--to myself," he cried angrily, "if I did not speak plainly. Does Mr Vine know that this gentleman is here?" "_No_," said Louise, in an almost inaudible voice, and in the contagion of her brother's fear she seemed to see him once more hunted down by the officers of justice; and the terrible scene on the pier danced before her eyes. "So I suppose," said Leslie coldly. "Send him away," whispered Harry hoarsely. "It is not in Miss Louise Vine's power to send me away, sir," cried Leslie fiercely; and the poor trembling girl felt her brother start once more. "You, sir, are here, by her confession, clandestinely. You are a scoundrel and a cur, who dare not show your face, or you would not have dashed out that light." Harry made a harsh guttural sound, such as might be uttered by a beast at bay. "Who are you? I need not ask your object in coming here. I could not help hearing." "Tell him to go away," said Harry sharply, speaking in French to disguise his voice. "Mr Leslie, pray, pray go. This is a private visit. I beg you will go." "Private enough," said Leslie bitterly; "and once more I say you may think I have no right to interfere. I give up all claims that I might have thought I had upon you, but as your father's friend I will not stand calmly by and see wrong done his child. Speak out, sir; who are you? Let's hear your name, if you are ashamed to show your face." "Tell him to go away," said Harry again. Leslie writhed, for Aunt Marguerite's hints about the French gentleman of good descent came up now as if to sting him. This man he felt, in his blind rage, was the noble suitor who in his nobility stooped to come in the darkness to try and persuade a weak girl to leave her home; and as he thought this it was all he could do, hot-blooded, madly jealous and excited, to keep from flinging himself upon the supposed rival, the unworthy lover of the woman he had worshipped with all the strength of a man's first passion. "I can't talk to him in his wretched tongue," cried Leslie, fiercely; "but I understand his meaning. Perhaps he may comprehend mine. No. I shall not go. I shall not leave this room till Mr Vine returns. He can answer to your father, or I will, if I have done wrong." "Mr Leslie!" cried Louise, "you don't know what you are doing--what you say. Pray--pray go." "When my old friend George Vine tells me I have done wrong, and I have seen you safe in his care."