"I went for a walk," the Judge was saying. "I had a headache. I couldn't sleep. I moved the lamp onto the card table. The curtain must have blown into it. We must thank God. We were lucky, very lucky!" He was pacing up and down there like a caged animal. "I'm thankful Eleanor, my wife, wasn't at home," he went on, talking very fast. "She has always been so delicate--had so much sorrow--so much trouble. A shock would kill her--a shock like that. My God, we were lucky!" I got up and pushed the tangled hair back from my face. "It's all right," he went on with a thick tongue. "Julianna is all right--the little rascal is smoky, but all right. Blow the candle out. It is getting light outside. It's dawn." The child on the bed kicked its pink feet out from under its long dresses and gave one of those gurgles to show it was awake. The sound made me scream. I had just awakened from my stupidity. "The other child!" I cried. "The other!" he said. "What other?" "The one he left," I whispered. "I had forgotten her." "My God! so had I. I had only one thought," he cried out. "Only one thought! And now Chalmers's wish has been granted. His--has--gone." He sat down in a wicker rocking-chair and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "I never thought," he said again. "I didn't see it anywhere. I didn't look for it. I found Julianna in the middle of the bed." "Bed!" [Illustration: IT MUST BE JULIANNA] That was the only word I had. The light of sunrise had come. The shouts in the street were far away. "Why, yes," the Judge said. "I--did--I found--" He stopped, he walked over to the infant and swept it into his arms. He took it to the window and held it up to the light as a person looks at a piece of dressgoods. "Why, it must be Julianna," he whispered. Then I heard noises in the back of his throat; he could not catch his breath at first, and when he did, he gave a low groan that seemed to have no end. The baby stared up at him and laughed. It was Monty Cranch's child. CHAPTER IV A SUPPRESSION OF THE TRUTH It was I who took it out of his arms and I who watched him go to the bed and fall across it face downwards, and hide his eyes like a man who cannot stand to see the light of day. If Fate ever played a fiendish trick and punished a square and upright man, it had done it then! I did not dare to speak to him. I did not dare to move. I laid the happy, gurgling baby in my lap and sat there till I felt that every joint in my body had grown tight in its socket. Once they rapped on the door. The Judge did not move, so I opened it a crack and motioned them away, and sat down again, watching the light turn from pink to the glare of full day, and then a path of warm summer sunlight stretch out across the rug and climb down the wall till it fell onto a basin of water sitting on the floor, and the reflection jumped up to dance its jigs on the ceiling.