During dinner he thought that a little later on in the evening he would go along to Lexington Avenue, and call on a lawyer whose acquaintance he had made on a former visit to New York. He might by chance be at home and disengaged; and an apology could be made for disturbing him at such an unusual hour. And this, accordingly, Vincent did; found that Mr. Griswold was in the house; was shown into the study; and presently the lawyer—a tall, thin man, with a cadaverous and deeply-lined face and cold grey eyes—came in and received his unexpected visitor politely enough. "De Lara?" said he, when Vincent had told his story. "Well, yes, I know something of De Lara. And a very disagreeable fellow he is to have any dealings with." "But I don’t want to have any dealings with him," Vincent protested, "and I don’t see how there should be any necessity. The whole thing is a preposterous attempt at extortion. If only he were to put down on paper what he said to me this evening, I would show him something—or at least I should do so if he and I were in England." "He is not so foolish," the lawyer said. "Well, what do you propose to do?—compromise for the sake of peace and quietness?" "Certainly not," was the instant reply. "He’s a mischievous devil," said Mr. Griswold, doubtfully. "And of course you don’t want to have things said about you in newspapers, however obscure. Might get sent over to England. Yes, he’s a mischievous devil when he turns ugly. What do you say now?—for the sake of peace and quietness—a little matter of a couple of hundred dollars—and nobody need know anything about it——" "Give a couple of hundred dollars to that infernal scoundrel?—I will see him d——d first!" said Vincent, with a decision that was unmistakeable. "There’s no reason why you should give him a cent—not the slightest," the lawyer went on. "But some people do, to save trouble. However, you will not be remaining long in this city; I see it announced that you are going on a tour through the United States and Canada." "The fact is, Mr. Griswold," said Vincent, "I came along—at this unholy hour, for which I hope you will forgive me—not to ask you what I should do about that fellow’s threats—I don’t value them a pin’s-point—but merely to see if you knew anything about those two——" "The De Lara’s?" "Yes, what does he do, to begin with? What’s his occupation—his business?" "Nominally," said Mr. Griswold, "he belongs to my own profession; but I fancy he is more mixed up with some low-class newspapers. I have heard, indeed, that one of his sources of income is levying black-mail on actresses. The poor girls lose nerve, you understand: they won’t fight; they would rather ’see’ him, as the phrase is, than incur his enmity." "Well, then, what I want to know still more particularly," the young man proceeded, "is this: is Mrs. de Lara supposed to take part in these pretty little plans for obtaining money?" The lawyer smiled.