Lyman had been helping Warren with the work of putting the paper to press, and he was tired, but when he had lighted the lamp he drew the writing paper toward him, and took up a pen, turning it between his fingers, as if waiting for a word, but it did not come, and he sat there musing. His heart was heavy, though not with a sadness, but with an overweight of gentleness, a consciousness that he stood as a protector to bide the time of the lover's coming. He was proud, but had no vanity. He knew that he could win friendship, for in friendship a strong and rugged quality was a factor, but he did not realize that the same rugged quality appealed to a deeper affection. In his work he saw the character of woman, and he could fancy her capricious enough to give her heart to the most awkward of men, but when he turned this light upon himself, so many blemishes were brought out that he stepped back from the glaring revelation. He believed that in his peculiar position Eva gave him the affection that a daughter might give a father, and he was determined that this charming relationship should not be undone by the appearance, on his part, of a selfish love; and in his resolve he was strong, but in cold dread he looked forward to the time when she should come with a new light in her eyes and ask him to release her. Suddenly a noise came from below, the tramping of feet upon the veranda. Could it be a surprise party at so late an hour? He listened. The door was opened, but there was no sound of greetings, no laughter. The visitors were evidently trying to soften their foot-weight, but the house shook under their uneven tread. He heard the click of the stair-door latch; the stairs groaned. He remembered what Sawyer had said, and caution prompted him to lock the door. The next moment there came a gentle tap, but he knew that the gentleness was assumed, for he heard suppressed breathing at the head of the stairs. "Who's there?" he asked. "Open the door." "But who's there?" "The good of the community." "Well, I don't know that I have any business with you at this time of night, Mr. Good-of-the-Community." "But we have business with you. Open the door or we'll break it down." Lyman stepped back and snatched open the table drawer. He straightened up and thought for a moment. They were throwing themselves against the door. He seized a light chair and stood near the door. Word to hurry up came from below. The door creaked. "Once more, are you going to open it?" "Wait a moment," said Lyman. "I don't know who you are, but I can guess at your business. You are violating the law, you are house-breakers and I wish to tell you--"