“Yes; but, as you say, we’ll get at something, and it is all we can do. I am willing to take the risk for Rupert, if not for myself. Will you sign as counsel? And I’ll go over to the office and file it. Mr. Dockett said he’d wait for us.” Steve took the pen and dipped it in the ink; then again leaned back in his chair, and then, after a second’s thought, sat up and signed the paper rapidly, and Jacquelin took it and went out. In a few minutes he returned. “Well, the Rubicon is crossed,” he said, gayly. Steve did not answer. He was again leaning back in his chair, deep in thought, his eyes on the ceiling, his face graver than before. “Steve, don’t bother about the thing any more. We’ve done the best we could, and if we fail we fail, that’s all.” But the other did not respond in the same vein. “Yes, we’ve crossed the Rubicon,” he said, with something between a sigh and a yawn. “Steve, what’s the matter?” “Oh, nothing.” “Yes, there is—tell me.” “Nothing—I assure you, there’s not.” “And I know better. Confound it! can’t I see something is going on that I don’t understand? You couldn’t, be gloomier if you had broken with—with your sweetheart.” “Well, I have.” Steve turned and looked out of the window to where the light in the clerk’s office shone through the trees. “What!” Jacquelin was on his feet in a second. “Jack, I’m in love.” “I know that. But what do you mean by—by—that you have broken with—?” “That I’m in love with Ruth Welch.” he spoke quietly. “What—what do you mean?” Jacquelin’s voice faltered. “What I say—that I’ve been in love with her ever since I met her.” He was still looking out of the window. “Steve!” Jacquelin’s tone had changed and was full of deep reproach. As Steve was not looking at him and did not answer, he went on: “Steve, I don’t understand. Does she know?” His throat was dry and his voice hard. “I don’t know—” “Steve Allen!” The tone was such that Steve turned to look at him. “What’s the matter with you?” “That’s what I have to ask you,” said Jacquelin, sternly. “Are you crazy?” “I don’t know whether I am or not,” Steve said, half bitterly. “But that’s the fact, anyhow.” Jacquelin’s face had paled, and his form was tense. “Steve, if anyone else had told me this of you, he’d not have stood to complete his sentence. I thought you were a gentleman,” he sneered. “Jacquelin Gray!” Steve sprang to his feet, and the two young men stood facing each other, their faces white and their eyes blazing. Jacquelin spoke first. “As Blair Cary has no brother to protect her, I will do it. I never thought it would have to be against you.” “Blair Cary? Protect her against me? In God’s name, what do you mean?” “You know.” “I swear I do not!” Jacquelin turned from him with a gesture of contempt; but Steve seized him roughly. “By Heaven! you shall tell me. I feel as if the earth were giving way before me.” Jacquelin shook him off, but faced him, his whole expression full of scorn.